Death Markers
by Rae666
Summary: During a hunt where missing people reappear, Dean is kidnapped and ends up on an medical table. When Sam tracks him down, will that be the end of it or is that evil in the darkness still watching Dean? Spoilers for Season 2 and mild language. Deancentric.
1. A hunt like any other hunt

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Summary

During a hunt concerning missing people who actually reappear, Dean ends up being kidnapped and awakens tied to what looks like a medical table, when Sam tracks him down will that be the end of it, or is the dark force in play determined to finish what it started? Based about mid season 2 so it'll contain a few spoilers.

A little Authors notes:

I need my supernatural fix, I've been playing this story through my head for a couple of weeks now but still haven't managed to quite get to the end (hell, I'm probably not even at the middle yet). It's a Dean story mostly. I think it started as a dream but then I kept adding bits during my waking hours but after reading a few fanfics, I decided I might try and write the story down, that way I might also be able to get to the end… not that I'm expecting this story to have an abrupt ending. As I've seen up to Croatoan, I guess it's based somewhere in the middle of season 2.

Anyway, please bare with me, it may start slow but hoping to get into it quickly without making it too rushed.

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I owned them and their sexy bods and smart ass wise cracks… I don't. But a girl can still dream… mmm, Dean.

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1. A hunt like any other hunt

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It was just going to be a hunt, just like any other hunt. It wasn't there first hunt after their dads death and it would be far from their last. There were things still unsaid between the brothers, things that needed saying but not yet. Not just then. They would come out in their own time, whether the brothers wanted them to or not. But for now, they were back to a relatively normal pace.

Sam looked across at his brother. Their fathers death had hit him the hardest, though he hated showing it, even after admitting how he felt. Sam looked back at the laptop on his knee. It didn't make sense to him, the pattern that Dean saw but he had to trust his brother. Disappearances were a common thing looked for when investigating and this town had plenty of them. But they all came back, they came back and acted as if them being missing was no big deal and that it was deliberate and they'd actually planned to go missing for a few days, weeks or even a month. So, Sam saw nothing supernatural, just a bunch of stressed out people wanting some time out.

_Look at this one, Susie Chambers. _Dean had said, _She disappeared for a week. She was on holiday and just passing through the town. She wasn't even going to be there for a week. Why would someone do that?_

_I admit, it's a little strange but maybe she had a fight with her husband. _Sam had pushed his opinion in. _Also, there's no pattern. It's not like it's been happening for fifty years, it's just been the last couple of months and not everyone's missing for the same length of time._

_That's what we're missing and that's why we need to go to the town to investigate. There is a link between them, I just know there is. _And that's when Sam decided there was no changing Dean mind. He was stubborn like that and also, still on edge. Not as badly as right after… He couldn't even think it, he found his throat clogging with emotion.

He felt Dean's eyes on him, "Dude, you okay?"

"I'm fine." Sam replied, "Just spacing out."

Upon entering the town, it was normal, just like a thousand towns they'd seen before it. Though if he pointed this out to Dean, he'd just throw back that in half those towns something freaky had been happening. Sam ruffled his hair a little and closed the laptop, "Where do we start?"

"First, we eat." Dean said.

Sam just looked at him.

"I'm hungry." Dean smiled at him.

And so they ate. In one of those little café's that these types of towns had. Sam was tempted to walk straight back out, being that as soon as they had walked in the pretty little thing dressed as a waitress had her eye on Dean. Had he noticed? Did he have time to turn them both around and get out before Dean did what he usually did?

Dean sat himself down in one of the bays. Nothing. Sam sighed, he probably would have preferred Dean to flirt shamelessly with the long legged blond who was walking towards them. He flashed her a smile, she blushed and Sam felt his heart skip a beat. But that was it, that little spark of Deans was nearly extinguished after… Sam stopped himself again, he had to admit to himself, he seemed to be blaming their Dad's death on a lot of things, but mainly for Deans serious and at times edgy behaviour. He'll be back to being himself soon, Sam thought.

Food was ordered and a slightly disappointed waitress left them to themselves, heading back to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later when she came back over with their food, Sam struck up conversation with her.

She perked up as he spoke, "Don't suppose there are any places nearby to stay at?"

"Well, there's a B&B just up the road from here. Though it's more bed than breakfast as the breakfast can hardly be called edible."

Okay, so it could hardly be called a conversation but Sam had spoken, she'd replied and then she left them to themselves again. Where they ate in silence.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After renting a room in the B&B, the boys decided it was high time they got down to business.

"So what's your theory?" Sam asked him.

Dean shrugged, "I dunno, can probably rule the majority of ghosts out. Maybe it's doppelgangers."

"Doppelgangers?" Sam sounded disbelieving.

"Well, I dunno. Maybe there's a group of them using the town as an exchange." Dean added, not convincingly. He found it to be an absurd theory himself, bordering and just downright stupid. But he had to have some kind of theory. He needed something to back up his thoughts. He knew something weird was going on in this town and he wanted to know what.

"Yeah, and maybe aliens have been abducting them." Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, or that."

Sam sighed again, Dean could feel himself getting desperate. "Dean…"

"Look Sam, I don't know what. But I do know something is happening to these people that keep disappearing. Our kind of thing, I'm sure of it." Dean noticed he was nearly pleading with his brother, "We just need to ask some questions and find out what."

"Then I suggest we start with the people disappeared but are still in town, haven't moved or whatever."

"And who would that be, college boy." Dean smiled, knowing his brother could find the answer easily.

Sam opened his laptop and compared documents against each other, printing a few out and tossing a couple at Dean.

"Okay, so over the past three months, six people have gone missing. All six of who returned completely unharmed and in the exact same mental state they went missing with. Four lived in the town, the other two were just tourists. Two of the four still live here." Sam said after a while.

"Okay, what happened to the other two?" Dean asked.

"One of them was killed and the other just moved." Sam said.

"Who was killed?" Dean asked.

"Freak accident, Dean." Sam said, "It was an accident at work, nothing more and certainly nothing supernatural about it."

"Who was it?" Dean repeated.

Sam tossed the paper over. Dean skimmed it, Kyle Greyson, he went missing for the whole month. In fact he was the first to go missing. But he was the third to come back. Dean looked at Sam and it was like he read his mind.

"It doesn't mean anything Dean."

"But what if the others are in danger? Where are they now?"

"Well the second and fourth people to go missing are still in town. Mrs Janet Hall went missing for three days and Mr Jerry Teague was missing for a week and a half. I got their addresses right here."

The time close to half one, the brothers felt they were getting no where. Neither Janet nor Jerry were home, after walking half way down the path to leave Jerry's, they heard the door creak open behind them and saw a woman peering at them. Hey eyes seemed to be stained red as if she'd been crying and her hair slightly at sorts but not messy enough to be called unkept.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her voice dry. It sounded to Dean as if she'd only just got it to stop shaking.

"Err, yes, we're looking for Jerry Teague." Dean said.

"He's not home." She said simply, though Dean noticed saying this seemed to pain her.

"Would you mind telling us where he is ma'am?" Sam asked.

"Why are you looking for him?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other, checking to see who was going to come up with a cover story first but before they opened their mouths to explain, she spoke again.

"This has something to do with him leaving doesn't it?"

Dean found himself in a shrugging nod, "Kind of, yeah."

"Well, when you find him. Tell him, I'm changing the locks. Once is bad enough but a second time…"

"A second time?"

"Yeah, this morning. He woke up, got dressed and when I asked where he was going, he just said he'd done his job and he had to go." Tears were swelling up in her eyes, Dean found himself moving towards her in a comforting way, "So where has he gone?"

"We don't know. We were actually going to ask him about what happened the first time. Did he ever talk about it?" Sam has posed this question.

She shot him daggers as if to say he was being inconsiderate and this was not good timing.

"I know this seems awkward but we think something may have happened to him and if we figure out what that was, we might be able to find him." Dean said softly, he was right at the door, offering himself sympathetically to the woman.

She shook her head, "He wouldn't tell me, he got angry if I ever asked, telling me he'd needed a break and that was it. He said he'd gone to the old school."

"Old school? Metaphorically speaking?" Sam said.

"No, I dunno. Maybe, but at first I thought he was talking about the one near the centre_(can you tell I'm English)_ of town but that doesn't make much sense. Why would he go there?"

Dean smiled at her, "That could be helpful. If we find him, we'll let you know."

He turned back down the path, "If you do find him, deck him for me."

Dean laughed, she was clearly annoyed with her husbands behaviour as well as upset. When he turned back to Sam, he was being stared at in disbelief.

"What?" Dean said. Sammy smiled and shook his head but Dean repeated his question, "What?"

"Just you, being caring."

"Dude, I'm a very caring person."

"Okay, and what now?" Sam found himself asking.

"Well, you keep trying to get in contact with that Janet and her family, find out if she's been acting a little weird or decided to just walk out and I'm gonna get some information on the school."

"What you thinking like?"

"I dunno, maybe another Ellicot. Maybe a school teacher gone bad." Dean said, he saw Sam flinch slightly at the mention of Ellicot, as if Dean was holding the name against him.

"You thinking it could be ghosts afterall?"

"You thinking it could be supernatural?" Dean shot back with a smile.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

To be continued…

PS – Please review, I'll give you cookies!!


	2. Digging deeper

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

A little Authors notes:

Thank you for reading this far. This is my first supernatural fanfic so I'm a little worried it might not be the best. I hope I've done a good job of portraying the two brothers.

Disclaimer: Maybe one day when I'm beyond rich I can dream about buying them… but until then, Dean, Sam, Jensen, Jared… Supernatural, none of it belongs to me.

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2. Digging deeper

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He was starting to think something. And they were along the lines of, he knew his brother was right and something weird was happening in this town, the question was what. He sat steeping in his own thoughts outside the Hall house, he'd gone straight there after dropping Dean off at the library.

Dean. In a library. By himself. The thought made him smile, he knew Dean was good at research and sometimes his mind put things together differently than other peoples but when it did, the pieces seemed to fit together without the need for smashing, gluing or slight modification of certain other pieces. Book smart he may not be, but detective smart, he was a true genius. Sitting there, in the black beauty or beast, or both that was the Impala; Sam surged with pride for his brother.

He barely even noticed the ugly yellow car pull into the drive of the Hall house, if it hadn't been for the rushed slamming of doors, he probably wouldn't have realised. Back to reality, back to the case on hand.

Sam grappled for his fake ID and jumped out the car, hurrying up to the Hall house where a middle aged man struggled with the keys in his hand. Just like Mrs Teague, his face was tear stained, though his state seemed far worse. The closer Sam got, the more he noticed. The man was shaking, completely from head to toe, when he'd finally managed to steady his hand enough to pick the right key, he had trouble steadying it enough to actually put it in the lock.

"Excuse me." Sam said, "Are you okay?"

The man jumped, but didn't look to Sam, his voice strained with emotion and a tickle of anger. His face flushed a bright red, "My wife is lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Of course I'm not okay!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" Sam started, "What happened?"

"Why do you care?" The man asked, nearly giving up with the key. He looked about ready to kick the door down.

Sam took a step forward and lightly wrestled the keys off him before thrusting the right one into the lock and opening the door, "Come on, get yourself in and let me make you a coffee while you calm down."

"I have to get back to the hospital; I only came home to get a few of her things." He protested.

"You'll have an accident if you try and get back to the hospital in that condition." Sam had plenty of practice with stubborn people, after all, his brother was probably the worlds most stubbornist person, though Sam being a 'college boy' as Dean put it, the word stubbornist shouldn't have even been in his vocabulary as it didn't even exist.

Sam was good at deduction and good at finding things so it didn't take long to make a coffee for the man now sitting with his head in his hands in the living room. He handed the burning cup to the man, warning him that it was hot.

"Do you feel like telling me what happened? It might help to talk about it." Sam asked.

The man was silent but slowly he seemed to speak, "Everything was fine last night when we went to bed. I mean, we're not the healthiest of people but we are in good health, mental and physical. This morning we got up, were having breakfast when Janet giggled. I asked her what was so funny, she smiled at me and said it had been fun but the job was done and she had to go. Her eyes sort of went glazed and she screamed. That was it and she collapsed and she hasn't woken up since."

"The job was done?" Sam said more to himself than to Mr Hall. They really were connected after all but why had she collapsed and Jerry simple left.

"Yeah, what did she mean by that?" Mr Hall pleaded as if this young stranger giving him a comforting ear had all the answers.

"I really don't know but Mr Hall, this is important, do you remember anything else?" Sam pressed on.

The man was too stressed to even remember he hadn't actually given Sam his name and he didn't care why he was asking questions.

"No, just my wife falling to the ground. It was like slow darkening motion. I couldn't do anything."

"I know and it's not your fault." Sam comforted the still shaking man, "Maybe it had something to do with when she disappeared before."

He shook his head violently, "No, she said she went back to school for a while."

"Back to school?"

"I figured it was maybe one of those short courses. She always went on about getting another qualification under her belt."

Sam watched him for a while, occasionally saying phrases like, "She'll need you to stay calm." and "I'm sure you did nothing wrong."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean sorrowfully closed the door of the Impala and watched as Sammy drove away towards his destination. Whose job was easier would depend on what Sammy was actually driving towards and what was waiting for him, another angry partner, a dead end or something else altogether? Whatever it was, Dean hoped it was safe. He cursed himself, he was so uncertain of what Sammy was going to be walking into, at least he knew the library would be safe, he should have made Sam do research on the school and he should have gone to the unknown circumstances. At the time it sounded like a safe plan, but Dean worried for Sam always. No matter whether he was nice and safe or in the middle of a life or death battle, he worried and wished he could protect him.

The library was quiet, it had an unused atmosphere to it. The librarian herself sat dosing in chair behind the desk, her puffing white hair showing her age where her hidden face couldn't. Dean walked up slowly and politely, he wasn't usually polite but he didn't want to give the poor woman a heart attack.

He coughed. She didn't stir. He coughed again and added 'excuse me' to the end of it. She didn't stir. He rolled his eyes and leaned over the desk to look at the computer, on doing so he accidentally pressed an old bell. The librarian had obviously been well trained to respond to the bell when asleep and only the bell as the startled face shot up, looking alert and extremely unfeminine. Dean started backwards, almost gasping in shock. It wasn't a little old woman, it was a little old man. But the puffy hair and what little of the outfit he had seen looked like it belonged to a woman, more likely someone's Grandma. Yet now he saw the gentleman's face, he figured the clothes were still a little to pink and the hair was a little too puffy for him.

"Can I help you?" The man asked, tearing Dean away from his thoughts.

"Er, yes, actually. I was hoping I could find some information about the School in the centre of town." Dean said.

The man smiled apologetically, Dean took this to mean he didn't know anything and nearly sighed but the man spoke, "If you're looking for a place to send your kids I'm very sorry, that place was closed down a long time ago."

Dean's optimism came back but also with a niggling thought, did he really look old enough to have kids that were old enough to be going to school? He pouted, he'd ask Sam offhandedly lately, although it would probably backfire and Sam would have a new thing to tease him with. "No, I don't have any kids so that's not the reason. I'm interested in the story of the building. I have a deep curiosity for old buildings, they don't make them like they used to." And when he said this, he realised he actually hadn't seen the school, he'd only assumed it was an old building by the way Jerry's wife had mentioned it and by the way this short little man in front of him had said 'a long time ago'.

The old man chuckled, "I hope it's for the structuralism and not the ghosts stories."

Dean smiled, "I guess the ghost stories are interesting but what's better is how well those old buildings withstand things like heavy storms, fires and other freak accidents." He threw these out, hoping one might strike something in the old man and Dean would know where to go from there.

"Well, luckily that school hasn't taken much battering. Still, didn't stop them closing it down back then."

"Then why did they close the school?" Dean asked; his true intrigue showing through any false faces he was trying to show. "Was the wiring getting faulty, flickering lights and places where the heating didn't work?"

"There's always faulty wiring in old buildings, not that it showed much and it used to be pretty warm, if you were in the same room as the furnace." The man remembered fondly, obvious he had been to the school when it was open, whether as a teacher or student; Dean didn't want to guess, "No, it would have been bad taste to keep it open or at least to reopen it so soon."

The mans face seemed to wrinkle in disgust, "Of course, it's not considered as bad nowadays but back then it was like a sin against God and children can be very vicious. They never mean to go so far but they do, they push and push until eventually…"

"Someone gets hurt?" Dean offered, "Or killed?"

"Every story has two sides, luckily for you I've heard both sides, though the latter is the version I find more believable." The old man had seemed to have forgotten that Dean was there supposedly because he was interested in the structuralism of the building, "I don't remember their names, there were three in all and then little Greg. Story is little Greg went nuts and just attacked the three students, slashing the arms and bodies of two of them and plunging the pair of scissors he held into the third boys eye. Instant death say most but I'm not a Doctor and it's not something I've ever cared to see first hand. The other side of the story, little Greg was constantly bullied, this I know for a fact. He was believed to be gay, so the other boys refused to shower with him. Never found out if the rumour was true or not. But he took some pretty bad beatings, got some really bad names shouted at him and pranks pulled. But one day, three of the bullies went too far and started threatening to castrate him," He spoke the words delicately, "And well, poor kid lost it, injured two of them and killed the third."

Dean's face was agape with horror, the evil that lay in the hearts of humans scared him more than anything, except maybe Sammy getting hurt. Humans we just plain irrational. What did this Greg kid have to do with the missing people? It didn't seem to fit, maybe if he dug a little deeper, maybe if he read the article for himself.

"Do you have any old newspapers?" He asked, as the thought occurred to him.

"Yes, many, the town used to have its own. But none of them contain any more detail into what I've just told you." The old man smiled.

Dean looked at the time, he wondered whether Sammy would have found anything yet. Sammy could take over here if he was finished, leaving Dean free to check the school out while there was still a couple of hours of daylight left.

"Would you excuse me a moment?" Dean said.

"That's okay," The old man smiled, standing up to walk to a shelf of books, "My job is done."

Dean burrowed his brow, watching the old man disappear into the rows of books. He shrugged whatever foreboding feeling had come over him off and noting the 'no cell phone' signs, he stepped outside to make his call.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Again… To be continued…


	3. Dean goes down

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

A little Authors notes:

I thought I'd try and format the chapters I've wrote so far and post as many as possible up but seriously, thanks to all those who have been reading my story.

Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me and you know the drill…

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3. Dean goes down

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The man had calmed down considerably when Sam's phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and looked down at the screen, it was Dean. Probably checking up on him. His brother worried too much, if anyone needed to worry, it needed to be Sam. His brother had too many close calls over the past year, the heart thing, which is what they had took to calling his near death experience from the heart attack, various other bruises and cuts that Dean always claimed 'weren't as bad as they looked', though Sam knew better and then there was the incident after the Demon attack. Sam had asked Dean if he remembered what had happened, about the ouji board and the warning of a reaper but Dean had said he didn't remember a thing and Sam could tell, he was being honest for once and didn't press his grieving brother for any more details.

He looked at the man, "I'm sorry, I have to take this. Will you be okay?"

The man nearly started crying again, "That's fine, I didn't realise how much talking would help. Thank you."

It was almost cheesy, Sam smiled inside thinking how it would be too chick flicky for Dean. Sam answered the phone.

"Hey dude, what took you so long?" Dean said, his voice more teasing than panicked.

"I been busy." Sam replied.

"I bet you have." Sam sensed a smirk in Dean s reply. "You got something?"

Sam looked back at Mr Hall and decided it best to get out of earshot.

"Yeah, Janet Hall is lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Her husband says they got up this morning and during breakfast his wife said 'its been fun but my job is done' out of the blue and then she collapsed and she hasn't woken up since. Oh and he also said she had gone back to school when she disappeared before, guy thought she meant to get another qualification." Sam finished.

"Okay, so she collapsed unlike Jerry but she said her 'job was done'?" Dean said, Sam noted his brother's voice sounded odd when he repeated the phrase but he continued talking, "So I wonder what's happened to the others who went missing."

"Well, we'll have to look them up, make a few phone calls and sound a few fake names. But what about you?"

"Besides a creepy ass story about a kid from the school that doesn't seem to fit? Not much. That's why I'm calling."

"What?"

"If you're finished up there, you're getting your arse over here and taking over. I'm gonna take a look up at the old school."

"Dean, you never were a one for school. It'd be easier if I drove over there and checked it out while you…"

Sam could tell Dean was hiding his concern about sending Sammy into a possibly haunted school that seemed to be the focus of people going missing and then coming back, "I do school a lot better than I do libraries, at least in school you could fall asleep in class. Plus, this library… it kinda smells like stale coffee and I know how you college guys are about stale coffee."

After ten minutes of wasted arguing Sam hung up the phone in defeat and heading back to Mr Hall, telling him he was hoping he felt better but he had to shoot off. When Sam had started the up the Impala, he saw a calmer but still distraught Mr Hall pushing what looked like a night bag into the ugly yellow car and then lean against the door, as if still felt he may be a little unfit to drive. Sam considered offering him a lift to the hospital but that would raise other problems, how would the poor guy get back home? How would Dean react if he wasn't at the library in the unreasonable five minutes Dean had made him promise to be there in?

Sam could tell that Dean hadn't even bothered to go back inside after making his phone call, instead, when Sam pulled up Dean rose from his impatient seated position on the step and headed towards his brother.

"You know, if I'm doing the research here now, you need to tell me more about that story." Sam said.

Dean pulled a face, the story had obviously disturbed him slightly but he summarised it all the same. The story disturbed Sam, her found himself in awe at the horror. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever heard, but still, it was pretty bad.

Shortly after, Dean swiped the keys from him and flashed that mischievous smile as he headed for the Impala, jumped in and drove away. Leaving Sam to study in, what he could read from his brother's face, 'safe' library. He sighed. His brother was so willing to protect but not to be protected.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean's baby roared in his tender grasp as he drove her towards the school. He'd seen an old map of the town just outside the library and after studying it for a bit, he decided he pretty much knew where the school was. The day would probably start dying soon, so he'd have little light to look around the school with. Plus, there was the overwhelming factor that most ghosts preferred to operate at night, when it was dark and scary, the time of day when things usually went bump.

He pulled up round the side of the school. It was old alright, ominous too. If this place wasn't haunted or didn't have something even remotely evil inside, he'd eat Sam's socks. The rail fence around the school gave it the feel of a prison, rather than a place where children were supposed to go and learn. The tall windows looked like dulled eyes, reflecting the sun in them and not allowing anyone from the outside to see inside it, to see the mystery it held and the secrets it whispered.

Another thing he noticed about the school was it was big. It was two storeys and wide and deep and made him wish he'd asked the librarian whereabouts the murder had happened. If he used his EMF metre he could get through quickly, he might even get out before the sun had actually set.

Gathering the usual supplies in his bag, including his shotgun loaded with rock salt, a handgun loaded with normal everyday bullets just in case, a flashlight and his strange looking walkman. He walked purposefully towards the gates around back, noting the chains around them. He judged his distance, judged the height and went for a run, climbing and jumping over with great ease. If demon hunting did nothing else, it kept him fit.

It took less time for him to pick lock the door than it did for him to find it and he was set, wandering around. Checking each room for tell tale signs of anything and listening carefully for his those tell tale sounds from his strange walkman but nothing. No sounds, no signs, no blood and he was getting tired of walking in the deadening light. He started humming, maybe he'd find something if he waited until it got dark.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam sat at the computer, even though Dean had told him the librarian had said the newspapers wouldn't be much help, he had to try anyway. Though he cursed under his breath, wishing Dean had given him a date to work with. He looked around for the librarian, maybe it wouldn't look suspicious if he asked him but there was no one in sight, Sam seemed to be alone.

He read the same sentence on screen that he'd been reading for the past five minutes, his mind kept wandering to Dean. He knew he shouldn't worry, Dean was a good hunter, Dean was great hunter. He'd been on hunts in his past, all he was doing was checking out an old school and it was still daylight, or at least it would be for another half an hour.

He clicked the mouse repeatedly, moving to the next page and the next page and the next. His eyes growing bored of watching the screen and then it appeared. Front page news as well.

"School closes down."

Why hadn't be just searched for those three simple words in the first place. He saw a picture of the school in the article, it took up nearly half the page, a smaller picture towards the bottom showed a group of friends who appeared generally innocent and happy. Sam noted that underneath one of the names mentioned was Greg; his eyes snapped back to the article but wait, something wasn't right.

"Come August, the local school, known for it's modern teaching methods and high grades will be closing indefinitely due to…"

He shook his head and blinked.

"…lack of funding?"

The article was pretty boring, it continued over three pages telling of memorable occasions and those teachers who dedicated their lives to the school and those really good students. There were quotes included in the article, none of them with a bad thing to say. None of them mentioned anything about bullying and murder or even fighting.

Either this was a cover up, or there was something seriously wrong with the information Dean had gotten.

Sam picked up his cell and called his big brother, not bothering to acknowledge the 'no cell phone' policy.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean had just continued walking around, he was making his way up to the second floor when his cell rang. He didn't hesitate in answering it, hoping Sammy had something for him, some breakthrough that would tell him where to look or what was really going on.

"Yeah?" Dean said.

"Uh, Dean," Sam began, Dean could just hears those little cogs in his brothers brain working, "You know that story you mentioned?"

"What about it? You found something?" Confusion ebbing through him. Where was Sammy going with this?

"I can't find anything." Sam said lamely.

Dean sighed, unable to show his disappointment, "Well the Librarian dude did say the papers wouldn't be much help."

"I've found an article about the school closing down but it was due to lack of funding, the article seems pretty kosher, Dean. Do you think maybe he was just spinning a tale to get your attention?" Dean noted how Sam rushed the last part, as if he felt Dean may shout at him for even suggesting Dean had been conned.

"He sounded like he was telling the truth, like he really believed it."

"I'm on with checking the obits of the same issue but there are no kids mentioned."

"That doesn't make sense. Look, keep looking for something, I'm gonna take a look a quick look upstairs and then I'll come back."

"Dean," Sam said, his voice sounded worried, though Dean didn't know why, "Be careful."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

And he hung up.

He barely had time to think about what Sam had just told him over the phone. He barely had time to hear the EMF metre making it's usual noise as danger appeared and he barely had time to even register the pain or the sensation of falling before his vision was consumed by darkness and he fell into a state of unconsciousness.

Dean Winchester had just been hit over the head with something strong and powerful by someone equally strong and powerful.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And there's more to come.


	4. Branded

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Disclaimer: I wish, but it doesn't and that's all I need to say.

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4. Branded

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When he finally woke up, the first things he noticed were the taste of blood in his mouth and the throbbing pain on the back of his head. The next was that everything was black. This was because he hadn't opened his eyes, instead he groaned softly. Then he heard hushed voices, this made him completely still and quiet, intent on listening to them and it was then that he realised he had no choice but to lay still as he was tightly tied to something.

Forgetting about the voices momentarily, he opened his bleary eyes and looked down at the unfocused and hopeless scene. He was tied to a cold hard table that had the feeling of something a doctor would use to put his tools on or a mortician would use to cut up dead bodies.

"Shit." He said, his voice sounding hoarse.

"You're awake." Said a voice colder than the metal table he lay on.

Dean said nothing. Just watched as a figure came into view, his eyes began to focus and he noticed there were two of them. Male and female. The man dressed as if he were about to do surgery and the woman dressed as if she were just some normal woman, which for all Dean knew, she could be.

And then what he'd just thought hit him, he eyed the man. Was he going to do surgery on him? His eyes widened and he struggled slightly against the bonds that held him to the table but they were far too tight, cutting into his skin at some parts.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean found himself saying.

"There's no need to worry, it won't hurt much." The man said, "But first…"

The man walked off to the side and the woman pulled a knife out, he didn't even want to think where the knife had been hidden. But one thing he needed to think about was how on earth he could watch this crazy doctor guy and the crazy looking brunette at the same time. She was closer to him; she'd be the one he'd watch.

She bent over his body, he tensed. Her knife snaked its way up Dean's shirt, slicing it with ease and she opened it to reveal his bare chest. A chest that seemed to be breathing irregularly, showing signs of panic but also signs that he was trying to remain in control.

"Damn, that was my favourite shirt!" He said, such a cliché but he couldn't help it, "And you better not have cut my necklace."

The woman smiled.

"Is this what happened to the others?" Dean asked.

"No." She said simply, moving a side.

The doctor had reappeared holding a dark stick that seemed to be glowing at one end. That glowing object looked very familiar; he remembered having seen something very similar extremely close to his eye once. That was the time a crazy nutcase family had made him choose who their next hunt would be. Dean shook this memory from his head; he had more pressing matters, such as where this guy was going with the red hot poker.

Dean watched, this was a mistake. He knew it wouldn't have hurt half as much if he hadn't seen it touch his chest. But it wasn't just a small amount of pain in one small area. It covered a larger area than he had imagined. He imagined it to be two, maybe three centimetres diameter at the most, instead the pain spread across nearly three inches. He'd closed his eyes and lifted his head when the pain had hit, the doctor keeping it there much longer than he should have and when he let it off, Dean looked down at his chest.

It wasn't just a normal poker, he knew that now, it was a branding iron. There was some sort of symbol on his chest, near where his heart would be. It was hard to make out from this position, but one thing he could make out was the pain.

"What the hell was that for?" He demanded, feeling like a cow that'd just joined a new herd.

The woman smiled and the man looked at her, "How long do we have?"

Her tongue snaked its way through her mouth as she spoke, "Long enough, just make sure you get the blood before he comes for him."

Before he comes for him? She was talking about Sammy. Who else would be coming for him? Damn, was this a trap?

"Now Dean, I need you to listen to me." The woman spoke directly to him like her were a child.

"Why?" Dean growled back.

"Because it's important." She said simply.

"You better keep your filthy hands of Sam!" Dean said.

Whoever this was, she must have connections with the demon, how else would she know who he is. Besides if this was a trap for Sam, then he would of most likely set it up. Before he could stop himself, he voiced a warning.

"He won't come. He wouldn't fall for a trap like this." Dean growled once more.

"Oh, the trap isn't for him." Dean flinched, the last time he had heard words spoken like this, it was when Meg had set up that trap for his Dad but his Dad was gone, dead, so who else…, "It was for you."

Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut, he was winded. Someone had set a trap up for him? But worse than that, he'd walked right into it.

"It wasn't easy, Demons don't tend to do favours. And setting up those people so you'd find a pattern. I do have to say though, I thought it would have taken another month before you came."

Dean worked it through in his head, demons, missing people, even though he'd only known about what happened to three of them, he knew enough, "They were possessed?"

"Bingo. Well I couldn't make them go missing and just suddenly reappear without them divulging some important details about my plan, they might have ruined it and then you wouldn't have come."

"But the story, that kid…" Dean shook his head, repeating the words the librarian had said to him, "My job is done?"

"Well, their jobs were. Their jobs were to lead you here to us. But your job, yours hasn't even began."

Dean was so focused on the woman he hadn't noticed the doctor approach with a needle until it had been put in his arm and was taking a sample of blood.

Dean was speechless, looking from the needle to the doctor and finally the woman.

She leaned on the table and placed her hand on Dean's face, her hand was colder than her voice, colder than the table. "We've been watching for a while. We don't take just anyone, in fact there's so few that are actually good enough that we barely take any but let me tell you, none of them have ever said no. You're special. You have such a good heart, such a beautiful soul yet they both have such darkness in them, you've killed without flinching, rare and wonderful. You're hunting skills are beyond brilliant and you've survived a meeting with not only one but two reapers. You're soul bears the mark of a murder and death."

"No, wrong guy." Dean said, realising the mistake, "I saw the same reaper twice, once he cured me, the other he tried to kill me but it was the same reaper, you've got the wrong guy."

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Sam looked outside, it was nearly dark and there was no sign of Dean. Whilst he had been in the library there had been no one else and Sam had to admit, this crept him out. Plus, Dean had been right. It did smell like stale coffee and that smell wasn't very nice.

He prodded his phone on the desk as if demanding that it ring. He tried using his freakish powers to communicate with Dean, not that he had been able to in the past, telling him to phone, telling him to call. He was growing increasingly worried.

He looked at the clock, that's it. If there was no sign of him in five minutes, he would call him. One minute past. He prodded the phone. Two minutes. He got the phone ready to call Dean and cancelled it. Three minutes. He got the phone ready again. Four minutes. He began to call, stuff five minutes!

The phone rang for what seemed like a long time, this wasn't helping his nerves. And then a click, the phone had been answered.

"Hello?" Sam said.

"Sam, I'm guessing." A female voice replied, though if she had answered the call, surely she wouldn't have asked such a question, seeing as caller ID would have shown it was him, or was she playing with him.

The female voice male Sam angry, was Dean messing about with some girl while he sat there in this dark and creepy library researching.

"It's for you, Dean" The voice said.

"You bitch!" Sam heard a voice say in the background, it had been Dean and he was pissed. Whoever this girl was, he wasn't messing about with her. Was he in danger?

"Dean!" Sam called down the phone.

"I'm sorry; he's a little tied up. Why don't I get him to call you back?" She said, teasing so well.

"What the hell have you." Sam started but the line went dead.

Dean was in trouble. Some crazy bitch had him and Sam had to get him back. Sam cursed, where the hell was he supposed to look? His gaze fell on the computer screen, showing the school. Would Dean still be there?

It was his only lead; he'd have to take it. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and rushed out of the library and further into the centre of town, towards the school.

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"I swear, if you harm him in anyway, I will kill you." He pronounced each word with the same amount of hate and anger, like venom he spat them at her and she didn't flinch. She simply slid the phone back into his pocket and turned to the doctor.

"I have no need for Sam." She said simply to Dean but her next statement was made at the doctor, "We don't have much time, he's on his way now. Get what you need and we'll start the spell."

"Spell?" Dean echoed.

"Yes, spell." She spoke softly to him, turning back to his face, playing with his hair teasingly, "Before we make your recruitment official, I want you to remember. That mark the reaper has left you with, it's so much stronger if you remember. Also, I'm sure it'll be an interesting experience for you. It could prove valuable, which in turn makes it better for us."

"What the hell are you talking about? Recruitment, remember?" Dean spat.

"You'll find out, but until then, just stay quiet while we prepare."

Dean couldn't see what was going on around him, his mind was far too busy for him to make sense of all this information, it was like he'd been overloaded but something stood out the most. Sammy was coming to rescue him and whoever these people were, they could end up hurting him. If someone else got hurt saving Dean, he wasn't sure he could take it, especially if that person was his little brother.

The doctor moved suddenly, Dean rolled his head to the side, watching. He gave something to the woman in a vile and she was coming back to Dean. She wasn't going to make him drink that, was she?

That's exactly what she wanted to do. With unknown force she opened his mouth and poured whatever that was inside. And then she closed it, keeping it closed so Dean couldn't spit it out. But Dean was good with keep things in his mouth and not swallowing. He was also very good at holding his breath, which is what she found out next when she tried to suffocate him into swallowing it.

She smiled, a mixture of admiration and amusement. But Dean wasn't giving up. She thrust his head back, clearly impatient and in shock Dean felt the liquid slide down his throat. He'd swallowed. Damn. What was it? Poison? Some sick demon thing?

"Now, when the memories come flooding back, it's better for you if you're sitting down, even better if your lying down. It's a little uncomfortable at first or so I've heard." She lifted her grip.

Dean breathed in and as he did, he felt a reminder of that liquid. It burned him, it was burning him, and the flames it made licked his entire body from the inside. It hurt, was this the uncomfortable feeling she was talking about?

As if reading his mind from his facial pain she spoke to him again, "Oh no, it's hasn't even begun yet. We have to wait for that to spread before we can actually use the spell, but that shouldn't take long."

Dean gritted his teeth as another attack of pain fired up through his body.

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The End… nah, I'm only kidding, I still got chapters left to write never mind upload.


	5. Rescue

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Do I really need to say this? Aww, what the hell? Just in case they decide to pick on me – I do not own Supernatural… yet.

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5. Rescue

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Even as fit as Sam was, the sprint to the School had really taken it out of him. He hoped that by the time he found Dean, he would still be in good enough shape to save him. He was nearly there. A black lump caught his eyes. The Impala. Weapons!

He knew Dean would never forgive him but he prized open the trunk and quickly gathered what he thought might help, during this time he managed to regain some of his breath. And then he closed the trunk, finding he'd done a good enough job for it to just reclick into place like the lock hadn't just been picked.

And then was gone from the back of the car and in a flash he was over the fence and looking for the door in. Eventually finding it and praying thanks when he found it was still unlocked.

He rattled through the hallways, not caring who heard him. Shouting his brother's name out. It was completely dark now. It was completely silent. Was Dean still here?

He worked his way to the stairs, looking up the staircase before heaving himself up the steps to the second floor.

"Dean!" He shouted again.

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Through the pain that seared in his body, taking away nearly all his senses, except the one that feels, he thought he heard Sam. The pain paused and he breathed. He heard the two nut cases at his side move about quickly.

"He's here." She said, stating the obvious.

"Can we really just let him take him?" The doctor asked.

"It doesn't matter one way or another, he'll be ours. It's safer for us if he takes him for now."

"But…"

"Don't argue. Just move."

They both prepared to exit the room, she stooped over him, her brown hair brushing across his skin, he hated it. He hated her. If he were to have seen her in a bar, he would have flirted and he hated knowing that. She kissed his forehead, "Good bye for now, Dean."

She turned and left, glancing over her shoulder when she reached the door. "Remember, it'll be better if you're sitting or lying down when you remember."

He scowled and was about to say something but pain once again seared through his body.

He thought he heard her whisper, "That was the last one." But he couldn't be sure.

It seemed to last for longer this time. When it finally stopped, he heard Sam once more shouting his name.

He shouted back.

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"Sam!"

At last. Dean. Thank God, he was still here. He was still here. He ran to his brother's voice and into a dark and dingy room that looked like it had been used for black market medical reasons.

He saw Dean lying on the metal table, "Oh god, Dean!"

"Get these freaking ropes off me." His brother hissed.

Sam did as he was told, slicing them with the knife he'd packed.

"Dean, what's going on?" He couldn't help but ask, helping his brother off the table and into a standing position where thankfully, he regained himself. The Big Brother, the Protector, the one that was dragging Sam's arm and pulling him towards the exit with one hand and grabbing a familiar looking duffle bag lying on the floor with another.

"Alien abduction, just like you guessed." Dean joked but after Sam gave him a pitiful expression he continued, "I'll explain later but for now I officially hate coming to school, I'd rather fall asleep in a library that smells like stale coffee."

Sam followed Dean, matching his pace easily and when he did, Dean let go of his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He said, though at this his hand shot up to his chest.

Sam looked, Dean automatically put it down. Sam knew this was because he thought it showed weakness. Sam also knew it was a mistake putting the arm down because, past the swaying open cloth, he had a clear view of a deep burn mark on Dean's chest.

Sam grabbed his brother, and being on the stairs this movement nearly caused Dean to stumble.

"What's that?" Sam asked, pointing at the symbol.

"Courtesy of Miss Freak and Doctor Freak." Dean said simply, avoiding answering fully.

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He couldn't answer fully, it would only worry Sam. Besides, he had to drag Sam out of that building and get him to drive them back to the B & B, his head was feeling tingly. He had lengthened his strides now, very tempted to run to the exit and to breathe the air that existed outside of the school.

He felt Sam fall in step beside him again. He was quick. And they were nearly out.

"Now." He thought he heard a voice whisper.

He turned to Sam but didn't stop walking, Sam's face was set, he was in concerned younger brother mode.

"I swear, you better not start brooding!" Dean threatened.

Dean saw that Sam was about to answer, opening his mouth but whether anything came out was a mystery to him because at that moment, he felt a stab like a knife in his side. He crippled over and Sam fussed and dragged him to his feet and the rest of the way out of the school. They headed to the fence. The high prison like fence.

Please, just let me get over that. Dean prayed.

His prayer was answered. But as soon as he was over, a blinding flash lit up his head, like a knife being drived in. Crippled again in pain.

He felt his heart ripping and his brain felt like it was burning. Various other pains showed up but none so intense as these two. He felt himself scream in pain. He was sure Sammy had heard it. Damn.

Please, stop it. Please stop. He thought.

He was only barely conscious of Sam carrying him to the Impala, checking his pockets for the keys and then loading him in the car. He was now sitting but the pain didn't lessen.

"Slightly uncomfortable?" He laughed ironically, that bitch had a high pain threshold if she thought this was slightly uncomfortable.

And then it happened. The thing that was meant to happen. The memories of his last encounter with a reaper came flooding back. The memories that should have been forgotten. Waking up to no one being able to see you, to finding out he could move some objects and then there was her, the prettiest reaper he'd ever seen but her true form was so much worse.

And his choice. She had given him a choice. He had been about to answer her when she was attacked.

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The next chapter needs rereading with the possibility of rewriting as well but hopefully none of this is starting to sound lame. And please, if you have comments or suggestions on any of this, whether you want to rip my work to shreds or give me some advice on where to take this, I'll be happy to read through them.


	6. Revelation

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Okay, so this chapter needed a little touch up but hopefully you'll think it's good enough. It's not as long as the first four chapters but it's longer than the fifth. (I think). Also, I'd like to thank ILoveMyFish and alwayssateen for their reviews.

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6. Revelation

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Dean opened his eyes. He was in bed. He was in the B&B. He closed his eyes again in misery.

It had been that yellow eyed son of a bitch. He'd sent him back to earth with a kind of Clint Eastwood quote about it being his lucky day. And then that bastard had taken his father.

No, that wasn't right. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. His father should have lived. Dean had made his choice, Dean had chosen. And then a great wave of both sadness and tiredness swept over him.

"Damn it." He whispered.

"Dean!" Sam called from across the room, he'd obviously been worried sick about his big brother.

"I'm fine Sam." He said.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"I remembered." Dean said simply.

Sam sent him an inquisitive look, obviously not understanding.

Dean stared back. There had been a reason why he had forgotten. It should have stayed forgotten and what's dead should stay dead.

"Dean?" Sam prompted, noticing that his look wasn't enough to receive an explanation.

"The reaper. The ouijji board. That stuff from the hospital." Dean found his voice was barely audible.

He looked over at his little brother, those widening puppy eyes staring back at him. Dean was reminded of a much younger Sammy that wore the puppy eyes - so often he could get Dean to do just about anything, from giving him his share of Lucky Charms to letting him stay up much later than his Dad had told him to, this being big in itself as it was like disobeying a direct order. But when it came to emotions and experiences that Dean didn't wish to share, didn't wish to burden on other people, he refused to let the puppy eyes bother him.

All that stuff that had happened in the school had barely made any sense to him, this whole case was awkward and he didn't want to put any of it on Sam. He saw Sam opening his mouth and tried to imagine the questions, they would all eventually come but it was more a question of when.

What happened to you? Who was that woman? What's that on your chest? The list was endless and Dean found himself wavering as he tried to think of answers he could give Sam when they finally arose because the truth was, he wasn't even sure of most of the answers.

Before Sam's mouth had started making sounds and forming the words that Dean knew he was longing to speak, he cut across him. "I know what happened to those people."

The word that had started to resemble a worried 'Dean' had quickly turned into a "What?"

"Well, I nearly had it right with the whole doppelganger theory but that alien abduction thing you came up with, that was good too." Dean babbled on.

"Dean, what happened to them?" Sam asked.

"They were possessed by demons." Dean shrugged as if this happened everyday and it were as normal as poltergeists, but he did feel a pang thinking how true this was becoming for them.

Sam muttered something that Dean didn't quite catch. He narrowed his eyes amusedly at his little brother, a thought crossing his mind, "Did you just Cristo me?"

Sam looked embarrassed; obviously he'd hoped to get away with it, "No."

"Cristo yourself you jerk." Dean laughed.

"I just thought…"

"Dude, I'm not possessed."

"But I figured that whatever happened to those people was going to happen to you."

Dean's smile faded, his brother didn't know that what had happened to those people was his fault but that's not what had happened to him, "Let's just focus on the people."

He could feel Sam about to press further into what had happened so he carried on, "We got six in all, ones dead so I think it's safe to say he's not possessed anymore. Jerry's missing, Janet's unconscious and we know nothing of the other three."

"You know, I never really thought about it but Janet's husband did say something about a darkening slow motion as she fell, think maybe the demon left her?" Sam asked.

"Guess we got a few people to visit and test for possession. Get to work college boy, I want some phone numbers and addresses." Dean settled himself comfortably on his bed, ready to watch his brother hard at work.

"You've been passed out for the past hour, isn't it my turn to rest?"

"Yeah, but I was tied to a metal table before that. Plus my head still hurts where that bitch whacked me." He rubbed the back off his skull gingerly.

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Dean had won Sam over using the sympathy vote, only it wasn't so much what Dean had said and shown, it was more what he didn't say and the fact he had tried to hide a wince when he'd touched his skull. So that's how it was, Sam pulled up some online directories whilst listening to his brother pretending to fall asleep until half an hour later when his breathing pattern had finally rested and Sam noted he was now actually asleep.

Dean wasn't possessed but if he wasn't possessed then what had happened to him. Who was that woman on the phone? What did it have to do with the case? And what the hell was that thing on Dean's chest? Burned deep into his skin, it wasn't the type of burn that would just disappear after a few months or even years, it looked like whatever it was, it would be there for a long time.

Sam had looked at it whilst waiting for Dean to wake after he'd driven them back to the B&B. He didn't know quite how to describe it. If he looked at each aspect of it, he could create a kind of written description to search online with. It consisted of four lines and two dots. Three of these lines formed the shape of a letter 'Z', the next line crossed the middle of the 'Z', at a 90 degree angle it looked like an S, the inner circles of the S having a dot in each side. Looking like eyes from the proper angle, though Sam could imagine what Dean would say they looked like. It was a weird symbol. He couldn't remember ever coming across something like it before.

Sam finally realised that for the past few minutes he had watching his brother. He tore his eyes away and looked at his screen. If he could find these other three quickly then he could get some rest and they could continue their work tomorrow. It felt like today had been an extremely long day.

A long day comprised of an extremely rude awakening and early rise and then a long ride that had taken away most of the morning and then an extremely weird case that had taken the afternoon and the rescue of Dean which had taken some of the evening.

His mind went to the case. Dean had been determined to find out what had been happening and on the same day as arriving in town, he'd somehow found out it was demon possession. That was quick, even for the Winchester brothers. Normally when they thought they'd figured a case out that quickly, it was span around and it turned out something completely different was actually responsible. But Dean had announced this new piece of information with such surety, such confidence that it had to be right. But why?

Why had demons been possessing people? Why had they disappeared and then reappeared? And what was up with the story Dean had been told? He looked at his sleeping brother, he knew the answers but didn't seem too keen to talk about them, Sam was sure of it.

"Damn you Dean." He whispered, getting back to work.

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Chapter 7 – Coming soon


	7. Nightmares

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! And thank you for reviewing, cookies for you all (just like I'd promised and was reminded). I really appreciate it and it's egging me on to write more, get these ideas out of my head and on my computer. Chapter 8 is already in motion and if it's not up later today, it should be up tomorrow.

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7. Nightmares

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"You're special." The voice echoed inside his dreams.

"Such a good heart, beautiful soul." She continued.

Dean shook his head, he'd done so many bad things he was sure they would outweigh all the good that he'd done.

"And you've killed without flinching."

He'd killed many things; he steadied himself, all of which deserved to be killed.

"What about Meg?" She asked, "What about the guy in the alley?"

"I had no choice." Dean defended to the voice in the dark.

"Of course you did."

And the presence that came with the voice faded. Until, he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

Dean jumped up out of bed and nearly knocked Sam flying. A nightmare? Of course, what else could it have been? He looked to Sam, who had been watching him.

"Dean?" Sam questioned him, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He replied, taking a seat at the edge of the bed, placing his head in his hands, "I'm f…"

"I swear to God, Dean!" Sam yelled, "If I hear 'I'm fine' once more I'll…"

"You'll what? Force me to watch Barney?"

Dean wasn't in the mood for a 'talk' with his brother about hidden emotions and secret fears. He lifted his head slightly and looked at the branding symbol on his chest. It ached, and thinking about it made him wheeze slightly. Where was all this heading to?

"What happened in that school, Dean?" Sam said, his voice showing anger and purpose, a dog with bone, unwilling to let go.

"I told you, that psycho bitch and that doctor branded me with this thing…" Dean had noticed Sam's breath had fallen almost silent, he turned to look.

"Strange use of words." Sam simply said and Dean realised his mistake.

"I don't know what you mean."

Dean looked away from his brother and stood up. What had happened had been a mistake and nothing like it was going to happen again. So therefore, there was no need to go into detail about it with his younger brother. The younger brother who had once again adopted the puppy eyes, though Dean wasn't looking, he could hear it through his voice.

"You don't need to protect me. And you don't need to be perfect and strong all the time. If something is wrong, I need to know."

"I already told you, nothing's wrong. They were probably just pissed off that I found out what was going on."

"I don't believe you." Simple and short reply again.

"Drop it Sam." This interrogation was really grating on his last nerve now, "I'm tired and I want to go back to bed, so get the hell off it."

It was true that after Dean had practically flung himself off the bed, Sam had taken a seated position on it to stare at him. For a moment, Dean thought Sam wasn't going to move and for the slightest moment, Dean thought that he might end up punching Sam. But he moved, shifted to his own bed and Dean laid back down on his.

"You're going to tell me what happened whether you like it or not Dean," Sam said, "You're not getting out of it."

Dean closed his eyes and lay on his side so he wasn't looking at Sam. Who knew, maybe Sam would find a way to wheedle it out of him, like he found a way to wheedle the truth about how Dean was feeling about their Dads death out of him. But it wouldn't be tonight, it was far too late and he was far too tired and tomorrow was going to be another long day.

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Sam shifted himself into a lying position on his bed. It hadn't taken him too long to locate the addresses and numbers they would need for tomorrow. He wasn't sure what they were expecting to find, if these people were possessed, what could they do about it? It would hardly go unnoticed.

But his mind couldn't focus on that right now. He was too busy worrying about Dean. He'd barely been asleep an hour before Deans pained groans had woken him up. Dean rarely talked in his sleep, at most he groaned and grunted but this time Sam had distinctly heard him say 'I had no choice'.

Of course, Sam wasn't planning on telling Dean that he'd heard it, not yet anyway. Perhaps he'd save that to catch Dean off guard, probably sometime tomorrow. Sam wanted to keep pressing his brother for details, but he knew better.

What had Dean meant when he said branded? Surely burned would have been an efficient term but he'd used branded. Had all of those other people been 'branded'? Sam cursed himself, he shouldn't have let Dean go alone. That overprotective and at times suicidal attitude of his was bound to get him in trouble some day, had this been that day?

The darkness pressed in on Sam's eyes, he felt them getting heavy. He blinked them open. He wanted to sleep, but he wanted to think. And he wanted to watch his brother, and if he saw Dean tossing or heard him grunting, he wanted to be there by his side, just in case. But the darkness pressed in again and the need for sleep was winning. It took five more blinks and two yawns to finally admit defeat and so he drifted off.

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The darkness also pressed in on Dean's eyes, but his heavy eyes refused to stay closed. His restless mind was a buzz, tossing questions about back and forth like a basketball match but like a losing team, never scoring, never getting any closer to the answers. The more questions he asked, the more he found he hand.

After ten minutes of lying awake and just counting in hope that it would ease his restless mind, he heard a snore from his brother. One of those snores that came from a person who rarely snored, but it came when the person drifted off into a deeper sleep than usual. _Good for you, Sammy. _Dean couldn't help but think.

As quietly as possible, he climbed out of bed and stumbled silently in the dark towards his bag. He dug inside and was relieved to pull out what he'd been looking for. It was a prescription bottle, with those little pills inside that helped you sleep. He'd forged the prescription a couple of states ago, a stock up for those nights when Sam had trouble sleeping and the seemingly rare nights when he himself did.

And this was going to be one of those nights. He unscrewed the lid and tipped a couple of the pills onto his hand, swallowing them without the use of any water. Not only would these put him to sleep, they'd keep him from dreaming, keep him from having any more nightmares than he really needed right now.

And as he lay back on his bed and was just about ready to drift off to sleep, a wicked thought came into his head. Why hadn't she just killed those people? Or kept them from reappearing? Not that he wasn't thankful for the slightest thought that, if they were all possessed than that, meant he could save them. But he thought nothing more of it as he drifted away to sleep, dreamless sleep.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And he'd thought nothing about the possessed librarian either until he and Sam went down for breakfast the next morning. Sam watching him with a constant vigilance. Dean gritted his teeth and smiled at his brother warning him to 'back the hell off'.

"Mr Henderson and Mr Black, is it?" The old cook asked, "What can I get two for breakfast?"

Sam looked away from Dean, about to speak but Dean stopped him from answering, vaguely remembering what the waitress from the café had said the previous day, "We'll just have some coffee, please."

Sure, she could have spun the tale about inedible breakfast because of competition, though after the smell of severely burnt toast drifted through to meet them as they sat down, he doubted it.

The old cook brought the coffee to their small table and sighed, "You boys really came to town at a bad time."

"Why do you say that?" Sam asked.

"Well, after all those rumours flying about the past month and now the deaths." She sighed once again.

"What do you mean by deaths?" Dean asked, a knot tightening in his stomach.

"Well, that Mr Teague and Mr Kilm were found dead this morning. Terrible news, of course Mr Kilm had no family in town that I know of but Mr Teague's poor wife, she'll be devastated."

"Who's Mr Kilm?" Sam asked. Though Dean feared he already knew the answer.

"He runs the library in town. Bit of an Einstein hair thing going on, all white and well… from what I hear, they weren't a pretty sight, easy to identify but still, real bloody mess." She confirmed his fears.

"Damn it." Dean whispered, "That bitch."

"Pardon?" The old cook asked, hoping she'd misheard him.

"Err, I said 'that's sick'." He said quickly.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After the cook was satisfied it had been her hearing, she disappeared.

"I want that bitch dead, Sam." Dean spoke angrily in hushed voice.

Sam bit back on the comment about Dean jumping to conclusions and instead asked a new question, "Dean, that Mr Kilm she mentioned… was that the librarian you spoke to?"

"He never told me his name." Dean said, though Sam knew he was avoiding the question.

"Even if he didn't tell you his name, I know you know the answer."

"Bet you don't know you're a pain in the arse though." Sam heard him mutter, though he didn't react, figuring Dean hadn't meant for him to hear. Instead he waited for Dean's answer.

And sure enough it came, "Yeah, it was." Dean looked almost guilty, "White Einstein hair do and…"

"And what?" Confession time, Sam thought.

"Dude even said the catch phrase."

Sam thought for a moment, catch phrase? "My job is done?"

Dean raised his cup of coffee in mock congratulations, "That's the one."

"And you didn't tell me?" Sam felt his voice rising above acceptable noise level and forced himself to calm down.

"I didn't think about it at the time. He wasn't one of the reappearing acts." Dean then shrugged, "Then again, if the guy had no family in town, maybe no one would have noticed if he went missing for a few days."

"So this Mr Kilm, he was possessed when he fed you some story about the school?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"That makes no sense. Unless…" _He was luring you to the school. _These thoughts remained unsaid, though Sam saw Deans eyes widen in suspicion, as if he knew he'd just thought them.

But before Sam could dig deeper, Dean's train of thought changed track, as did the conversation, "Sam, if Jerry Teague and the librarian are dead now, and Janet Hall is still lying unconscious in hospital, we've got to find the others before something happens to them."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Chapter 8 is hopefully going to have a couple of short explanations in it, for all those like the small details. If I miss anything, just give me a yell.


	8. Here we come to save the day

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Before anyone shouts at me after reading this chapter, when I mentioned about explaining a few small details earlier, I was referring to the really small ones, for example, why some possessed had been killed and why some were merely left unconscious. I'm leaving the really big things until later.

I'd edited a couple of things in this chapter, nothing big so you don't need to reread. I think I've only added one word, and that was in the last sentence because I'd missed it in my hurry to write it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

8. "Here we come to save the day…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean hadn't even finished his coffee; that was one of the first things Sam noticed. The second was that he was fidgeting like crazy. And the third, he screamed at the 'stupid hunk of metal' that refused to start. Not finishing the gruel disguised as coffee, sure, that's fine. Fidgeting when you know someone might be in danger, Sam could write that off to. But Dean calling his precious Impala a 'stupid hunk of metal' that was just downright wrong and completely unDean.

"Don't make me pour holy water all over you." Sam threatened, warily.

Dean breathed, "I know, I know. I'm acting crazy."

"I'm not sure crazy begins to cover it." Sam opened his notebook with the addresses and numbers wrote down inside.

"How about you quickly run over those details about who's where?"

Sam sighed and looked at the page, scribbled at the top were six names, before going over these names or even replying to Dean, he wrote down a note underneath the names. And then he read the list in his mind.

_Kyle Greyson, missing for one month - Dead_

_Janet Hall, missing for three days – Unconscious_

_Chris Johnson, missing for two weeks - ?_

_Jerry Teague, missing for a week and a half – Dead_

_Susie Chambers, missing for a week - ?_

_Nora Dodge, missing for six days - ?_

And his newest scribble:

_Mr Kilm, missing for god knows how long - Dead_

"Before we go anywhere, I think we should make a few phone calls. Make sure nothings happened, just so we don't have a wasted trip. I mean, this Chris Johnson and Susie Chambers, they're not even in this state. Nora Dodge, she's not so bad, just moved a town or two away."

"Fine." Dean said, "But while you phone them, we're driving to Miss Dodge's."

"Do you even know where that is?"

"No, smart ass, you haven't told me yet." Dean looked in frustration at his brother, but Sam just broke out into a smile.

"Riverton Edge."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean drove as fast as he could, taking as many back roads as he could and avoiding as many possible places for police cars to hide as he could, just to get to Riverton Edge before something could happen. He was much calmer now he knew he was on the road and doing something to prevent anymore deaths, because of him.

He imagined his fathers voice inside his head, _Is that self pity I hear?_

And damn it, last night it had been but as the morning rolled in, it had turned from self pity to self loathing.

Now he heard Sam's voice inside his head, _It's not your fault._

Dean wished he could believe that, but he couldn't help feel responsible but that didn't matter. He pushed his emotions to the back of his mind; he'd deal with them later.

So his own voice said, _Focus on the job._

And he obeyed. He even apologised to his car for being so rude and with only a fleeting glance, he apologised to Sam, who smiled back in reply.

Partly out of politeness for his brother being on the phone and partly because he wanted to hear as much of the conversation as possible, he left the radio off.

"Hi, I'm looking for a Mr Chris Johnson?" Sam asked politely.

"My records indicate he's the homeowner… hospital?... oh, well, thank you… I'll try and call again later then… no, it's best if I call back…thank you, bye."

And Sam hung up. Dean sat patiently waiting for Sam to fill him in on the one sided conversation he'd just heard. But he didn't, instead he started dialling another number and was scribbling notes on his notepad.

Dean coughed, clearing his throat, Sam said nothing. Dean coughed again, just as he did at the library, only he didn't add 'excuse me'. Sam looked at him as he pressed the dial key.

"Hey man, do you need a drink of water or something?" A grin spreading across his face.

Dean just glared at him, sighed and went back to watching the road. They sat in silence for ten minutes. Ten long minutes of Dean itching to turn on some classic rock and Sam dialling, hanging up and then redialling the same number. And finally someone appeared to answer.

"Hi, is that Susie Chambers… oh, hi, Miss Chambers… sorry, Mrs… I'm Doctor Rhinestone and… yes, that's right… no, no, there's nothing wrong… I was just calling to confirm you received them… all clear right?... good, thank you… good bye."

Dean was about to 'clear his throat' for one final time before Sam finally spoke.

"Well, if they were possessed…"

Dean cut in, "Which they were."

"I don't think they are anymore. Chris Johnson, he went into hospital not long after his trip to our friendly town. He'd collapsed in a fit of pain and was unconscious for the next couple of days, waking up to find he had amnesia, only barely remembering parts of what happened between the school and waking up. His partner was saying he was getting released later today, tests showing up clear. Bet you'd find some sulphur if you looked though. Same pretty much goes for Susie Chambers, except she's already home from hospital and back to her normal life."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam scribbled on his note book, adding _'no longer possessed?' _after Chris Johnson and Susie Chambers. Even if it were true, Dean would probably want to do a fly by visit to just check.

"God I hope not." He found himself saying, not even realising he'd said it out loud until Dean replied.

"Hope not what?"

"Nothing." Sam replied.

"You can't just say 'nothing'." Dean protested.

"You do." Sam replied, the air tensed again. Sam decided to change the topic, just this once, "You want me to call ahead?"

Dean seemed to pretend the previous few phrases exchanged didn't happen, "Why not? Couldn't hurt to be prepared."

Or more accurately, couldn't hurt 'anymore' to be prepared, seen as even though in past experiences they had been prepared, they still got hurt.

Sam dialled the number. He hoped it would be answered first try, especially after all that trouble trying to get through to Susie Chambers. And it rang. And it rang. And it rang and silently Sam screamed _'Just answer the goddamn phone!'._

And the goddamn phone was answered. "Hello?"

The voice was male, that ruled out Nora answering the phone herself. "Hi, can I speak to Nora Dodge please?"

"She's not home at the moment. I can get her to call you back."

"No, that's okay. Is Nora at the hospital?" Sam asked, trying not to sound suspicious.

"No, she's out shopping. She hasn't been in hospital since our last child was born. Who is this?"

"Just an old friend, was wondering how she was doing after the move. I'll try calling her later."

Sam didn't even wait for a reply; he just hung up his cell phone.

"Smooth." Dean mocked.

"I couldn't think of anything better." Sam rubbed a hand over his face, at least he'd gotten some answers.

"And you're going to tell me what was said, aren't you?"

"Not much, Nora was out…"

Dean nodded and smiled, that cocky smile, "I gathered that when you said 'I'll try calling her later'"

"Yeah, well, if she's been possessed there aren't any signs that it's left. She hasn't been to hospital anyway."

"So we might have to do an exorcism? Man, I hate those things."

"We could find a few things out if the demons still in her. Just chuck some questions at her."

"You're just tired of chucking questions and me and me not chucking the answers back."

And this was true but he wasn't about to admit it.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Since Sam was no longer on the phone, but instead seemed to be resting his eyes, Dean turned on his music. Not loud, after all, Sam needed his beauty sleep. Just loud enough so he could sing along and tap a beat into the steering wheel. The drive seemed to be a lot longer than he thought it would for a town that was just a 'town or two away'.

But at last they rolled past a welcome sign and into the town, Dean prodded Sam gently. And when Sam didn't wake up, he flicked his ear. This cruel way of waking him tended to work a lot better and this time for no exception.

"Direct me." Dean commanded, still laughing at Sam's comical expression that he wore after just waking, or after being forced into waking.

Sam gathered himself together and directed Dean. Within minutes they arrived outside of Nora Dodge's house and were walking up the path.

"Why'd it have to look like the burbs?" Dean said, remembering his last trip to such a neat neighbourhood, "I swear; I'm just expecting a bunch of bugs to attack."

He lifted his hand to knock on the door but it opened before he made contact. In front of the boys stood a woman in her early thirties, though her tired eyes made her look older. They twinkled when they landed on Dean, "Mr Winchester, come in, come in."

Dean looked over at Sam, who was staring back at him. They shared the same confusion but still entered the house.

"I take it the others didn't wait for you to give them your special treatment." She said, directing the boys to the sitting room.

"What others?" Sam asked.

She didn't answer, she just continued on as if he hadn't even spoken, "Can I offer you a drink?"

"We didn't come for drinks." Dean said.

"Nora? What's going on?" Dean almost jumped when a man appeared from an adjoining room.

"Hey honey, these are a couple of old friends." She offered, snuggling into him for a quick hug, flashy Dean a mischievous grin.

"You called earlier?" The man looked at Dean. Dean shook his head and pointed to Sam, silently saying _'That lame ass call wasn't mine'._

"Well, I'll leave you to catch up." The man smiled, his wife's explanation was good enough for him, "Got some work to do in the study."

"You just gonna keep playing happy families?" Dean spat at her once the man had left.

"Well, unlike the rest of them, I don't mind playing human for a while, maybe have some fun before I leave my host to pick up the pieces."

Dean clenched his fists and squared his jaw.

"Careful Deany, one scream and my husband'll come running."

"Dean, she's right, we can't do anything here." Sam whispered to Dean, but this didn't help Dean to calm down.

"What happened to the others?" Dean growled.

"They grew bored." This bitch demon was having fun taunting them, he could tell.

"So they just killed their hosts?"

"Not all, as I'm sure you've found out. Some demons get their pleasure other ways. In fact, I bet their partners will be missing their recent sex lives very, very soon."

"You're sick." Sam had just beaten Dean to saying this.

"You should be thankful they even bothered to leave them in one piece. I'd planned on fucking this ones mind right up before I left."

"Why did you even do it in the first place?" Sam spoke again. The question wasn't perfectly formed, but Dean knew that it had meant, 'Why did you bother possessing people in the first place?' and this demon knew what he'd meant to. Dean felt his heart slow and then speed up rapidly. Would she answer? Give Sam the answer that Dean hadn't?

"I was doing an old friend a favour." She said, "Their reason behind it, well, if you're brother doesn't want to share, I'll let him keep his secret."

"Dean?"

Dean didn't answer, he couldn't answer and he couldn't give this demon the pleasure of what would happen if he did. She knew this and she was growing tired of them.

"Now, unless you want to get in trouble with the cops, you better be going. I'll let them know you called, Dean."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	9. “I’m tired of secrets, Dean…”

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Okay, this chapter has some emotional and truthful Dean, which I had to write from Sam's point of view or I'd never have been able to get that stubborn image of Dean in my mind to admit to anything. The chapter title is the start of one of Sammy sentences, I couldn't really some up with anything smarter or any good one worders. So here you go. Chapter 9.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

9. "I'm tired of secrets, Dean…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Reluctantly, the brothers left the Dodge's house. They both equally hated knowing that there was a demon inside that house, possessing an innocent bystander and they could do nothing about it. Dean had just unlocked the Impala and was about to jump into the drivers seat when Sam snatched the keys off him.

"You get in the passenger side, I'm gonna drive us somewhere quite because you are going to explain to me what the hell is going on." Sam snarled, shoving Dean out of the way and with only a mild threat and grumble, Dean obeyed, jumping into the passenger seat and letting Sam streak away.

Sam noticed how odd it felt to be going so fast in the car when he was driving. Normally when it was going this fast, Dean was the one driving. But Dean sat in a silent huff and Sam, filled with anger and frustration drove as fast as he could, until they found a quiet lay-by where they could talk – probably not so quietly.

"Well?" Sam said, as he parked the car.

"Sammy…" Dean had begun.

"I'm tired of secrets Dean and I'm getting really sick of this bullshit. What the hell happened at that school?"

"I told you, they burned me and-"

Sam cut across him, "Last night you said branded."

"Okay, the bitch branded me with a stupid branding iron and now I got this goddamn thing on my chest."

"What else? Why weren't you possessed?"

Sam saw Dean flinch but he didn't answer, "Why the others and not you?"

"It was a trap." Dean finally said.

"A trap?"

"This whole possession deal, people disappearing and reappearing, it was all a trap okay? And I fell right into it."

"Dean, who was it? Was it The Demon?"

"The yellow eyed bastard? No, not that I know of. I don't know who they were, Sammy. They didn't exactly tell me much."

"Except that it was all a trap? 'My job is done' – that had something to do with luring you to town, to the school? Why Dean? Is it revenge?"

"Sam, I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't know the answers."

"But why you and not…" _not me?_ Sam didn't finish, he didn't need to. He was that one that had the psychic powers, the weirdo visions and a pain in the ass demon telling him that he had plans for him.

"Because you don't kill people Sam." Dean shot at him, his face flushed with anger, "'Cause you haven't been brought back from death by someone else dying."

Sam shook his head, "Dean, you don't kill people. We kill demons, monsters, we kill evil."

"Yeah well, for me, that line between good and evil is pretty thin and I'm having trouble seeing it, how do I know I haven't already crossed it. How do I know I'm not just as bad as the things we hunt and all those 'things' I've killed that might not have even been evil, they just looked it. And..." Sam was right about the not so quiet talking.

"Dean, look at me." Sam stared at his brother, did Dean really feel so bad? "Look at me!"

Mixed emotions played in Dean's eyes, most prominently anger and sadness, "Dean, you're one of the good guys. We're the good guys and we've got a job to do. We've got this job to do and when this one's finished, we'll move right onto the next one and the next and the next and we'll keep killing whatever evil is out there. Dean, you told me that you wouldn't let me turn into another Max. Well, Dean, I'm not gonna let you turn into whatever it is you think you're gonna turn into."

"How do you know?" Dean asked, his voice lower, his leg shaking in frustration.

"Because you wouldn't even be on this whole guilt trip thing if you were evil."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A silence of acceptance settled in and during the drive back to the B&B, neither brother spoke. Dean didn't even argue as Sam drove.

Dean hadn't wanted to lay all that stuff on his brother's shoulders; he hadn't wanted to show any weakness. Yet somehow, after getting it off his chest – that restricting belt of emotion lessened and he found himself defying and somewhat mocking that voice in the back of his head, the one that taunted him with similar words that the 'woman', or whatever she was, had spoken to him.

The silence wasn't broken until they were back into town and it was Sam who broke it.

"I think we should get a few books or something, see if there's anything about that thing on your chest."

That thing? So that's what it was, it wasn't a symbol. If it was a symbol than it would mean something, if it was a symbol it could cause trouble. So it was a thing - and neither brother wanted anyone saying otherwise. They just wanted it confirmed that it was simply a thing that would fade away with time.

"You really think the library'll be open? I mean, the guys dead."

"No, but I thought I saw a pretty interesting bookstore in town and if that doesn't work…" Sam looked at Dean, "We'll just have to call some old friends."

"Interesting book store?" Dean ignored the last part, after all the mood needed lightening, "You really are a geek."

"And you're a jerk." Sam laughed.

"Well, if you're hunting in the bookshop, I'm taking my car for supplies."

"Supplies?" Sam's eyebrow rose questioningly.

"Well yeah, if we're performing an exorcism we're gonna need supplies."

Dean had already started making a list in his head, at the top of which was Salt and Holy Water, just in case.

"Fine but then you'll have to come and pick me up from there."

"I'd actually been planning on skipping town and leaving you…" Dean started.

"Don't make me crash." Warned Sam – the mood officially lightened.

When they finally arrived at the bookshop, Dean saw what Sam had meant by interesting. It wasn't a normal bookshop; in fact Dean was surprised to see anything like it in a town like this. It looked odd, out of place and he was sure that most of the town's folk would just ignore it and pretend it didn't exist. It wasn't gothic but it did scream magic, it looked like an old hippy witch might run it. A pentagram hung in the shop window though Dean suspected that it wasn't there for show or for devil worship, he suspected that who ever did own it knew stuff and that the pentagram was there for protection.

"That's where you're looking? Don't you think it'll be full of teenage girls and dream journals?" Dean tossed a look at Sam as Sam tossed the keys to him.

"I bet it's got more stuff in than the library and besides, you see that book in the window - that's a pretty rare book, Dean. Normal bookshops don't have books like that."

"What ever."

Dean watched as Sam crossed the street. He smiled, thankful that Sam didn't feel he needed to be watching Dean 24/7. And as Sam walked into the store, Dean got into his car and started her up. His plan was to drive around for a while, see if he could find a church, there was bound to be one around.

It was true, Pastor Jim had taught their Dad how to bless water and in turn, he had taught his sons. But something inside told Dean that on this occasion - if he got an actual priest to bless some water, it would probably be a lot more powerful. The real problem stood in how to get the priest to bless the water…

"You see, my cousin, he's only young but he's been watching these horror movies and getting pretty freaked out." Dean started to explain to the priest, "So I figured if I could get hold of something that he saw as protection, it might make him calm down until he's ready to deal with it."

"And for this you want me to bless some water?" The priest questioned.

"Yeah I know, I could just get some water but then I'd feel like I was lying to the kid. At least this way I won't have to lie and my cousin can sleep a bit better at night."

_Please fall for it. Please fall for it. Please…_

"Well, we don't normally bless water but I can see it's for a noble cause and you mean well." The priest spoke softly, "I'll do it just this once but he can't – "

"I know, it's just a one off. He's going through that phase when kids believe in monsters and won't listen to a word you say."

And with that, the priest nodded and smiled. It worked. Dean listened carefully as the priest blessed the water, each phrase, each word, each syllable, checking that the priest wasn't just humouring him.

"Thank you so much." Dean said, pocketing the new bottle of holy water.

"If you're staying in town for a while, might I suggest you pop by for a service?"

Dean nodded, though he knew no matter how long he was going to be in town for, he wouldn't have time for a service.

After stocking up on a few other things besides holy water, Dean sighed. He didn't really need much for an exorcism; most of the things he'd got were just precautionary.

And barely half and hour after dropping Sam off at the bookshop, Dean parked up once more on the opposite side of the road.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As Sam stepped through the door, he had noticed two things. It was dark and smelly. Not unpleasant, the darkness was soft and welcoming, homely sort of, not dark enough to be threatening. And the smell was of flowers mixed with something else, probably incense or burning candles.

There was no one in sight to ask for help, Sam wasn't even sure what he was looking for so how was he supposed to ask for help with that? He scanned the shelves, Dean had been right about most of it. Teen witch spells and dream interpretations decorated the rows at the front of the store. Some bright and colourful, others dark and gothic.

The deeper Sam moved into the store though, the more he started thinking that this person knew their stuff. He thought about Missouri's place, where he thought it had seemed like fake reassurance but it turned out to the real deal. He picked up a book at from the very back wall. It was dusty, perhaps too deep for the usual teen customers.

"Can I help you?" Came a soft voice for a side door.

"I'm just browsing." Sam said.

"You don't seem like out normal clientele." The old hippy style woman teased.

"I guess I'm here on a more educational basis."

"A scientist or a believer?"

"Probably neither. I mean, not all dreams have a deep meaning and how many of those spells actually work?"

"So you're sceptical about magic then, well, maybe I can change your mind about that. Though I should warn you, not everything turns out good."

"Believe me I know. I'm sorry to be rude but I'm just browsing, I don't need a magical mystery tour. I know you mean well."

She sighed, "Well, if I can't persuade you, perhaps I can help - what are you looking for?"

Sam had just been about to answer when that familiar ding a ling came from someone entering the shop. The woman turned around and Sam saw her face was suddenly filled with anger.

"Your kind is not welcome here!" She hissed at whoever had just entered.

Sam took a few steps to the left to see who had caused the woman to become so unwelcoming. His eyes fell onto a completely confused and taken aback Dean.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	10. Answers

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Hi! I know, it's taken me longer to get this chapter up. My muse abandoned me during my period of extreme excitement caused by the return of the show. Well, it's called 'Answers' but we only learn a little bit more, I don't like revealing too much. Anyway – I'd like to say thanks for my reviews and thanks for reading. I got a couple of things wrote for Chapter 11 so hopefully this means my muse has returned.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

10. Answers

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"What?" Dean found himself saying. He hadn't even noticed Sam step from around the corner at the back until he spoke.

"Excuse me, he's –" Sam began but she cut him off.

"He's not welcome! Get out of my store!" She started moving towards him now.

Dean took a step back and held up his hands in surrender, "Whoa, hold up. What on earth are you going on about?"

"Don't think I can't see it. It burns clear for me. You can hide it from everyone else but from me, ha!"

Riddles! The woman was speaking in riddles! And then Dean noticed, she kept glancing at his chest. His guts tightened.

"You gotta be kidding me." He said.

"Ma'am, please calm down." Sam said, following up behind her, trying to squeeze past so he could become a wall between her threatening stare and his brother.

Sam didn't succeed in his wall attempt; she was right up close to Dean now. Dean felt himself go back once more, colliding with the door.

"Look, I'm not here for trouble." Dean said.

"That's all your kind ever brings; trouble. There isn't a single time that I've seen that symbol and there ain't been trouble."

Dean's hand flew up to his chest, over the symbol. He felt it twinge slightly. "I swear, who ever it is you think I am, I'm not."

Sam placed his hand on the woman's shoulder, turning her around to face him, "You know about the symbol?"

Her eyes widened. Dean stared at Sam, silently telling him to back off. He was obviously scaring her.

"I know enough."

"What can you tell us about it?" Sam said.

"You're with him?"

Sam looked at Dean and nodded.

"Then you know what he is." She said simply.

"He's my brother and he's a hunter, a damn good one at that."

Dean smiled, "I'm a good guy, honestly."

And whether it was because she had been backed into a corner or because she actually believed Deans words, she sighed and silently locked the door behind him. "If I have no choice, it'll be better to talk in the living room."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The brothers followed the woman through the side door that Sam had first seen her arrive through. She didn't offer them a seat when they came into a reasonably homely seating area, or a drink. All she did was move a safe distance away from them and stare.

"What is it you want from me?" She finally said.

"Nothing." Sam said, "But you do seem to have some idea about this thing on my brother's chest and that means you might be able to help us. Give us some information."

"That's not a thing." She said, silently a voice inside Sam was screaming for him to turn off and not listen to her because the next thing she was going to say would be nothing but lies, "That's a very powerful symbol that belongs to an ancient society. You don't just come across it by accident and anyone who bares it is evil."

She spat these words at Dean, he looked away.

"My brother isn't evil and he has nothing to do with what ever society it is you're on about."

"Then why does the death mark burn so fiercely on his chest?"

"Death mark?" Dean questioned, "What sort of lame ass name is that? What, no Latin?"

"You really have no idea do you?" She sighed, "It has many names, even one or two in Latin but it's mostly known as the 'Death Mark', short and sweet – unlike what it represents."

"And what does it represent?" Sam spoke softly, guiding her to give them what knowledge she may possess.

"Like I said, it belongs to an ancient society, an evil society. If you boys have been messing around with that kind of stuff, you're in a whole world of trouble."

"Trust me when I say, we haven't done anything – that we know of. We've never even seen the symbol before, never heard of it, or who ever these people are."

"I don't want to get caught up in this, if you really don't know what you've done, it's probably best if you just leave. I don't want to be involved."

"Lady, we don't want to get you involved, but you could be our only source of information." Dean spoke this time, "We could really do with the help."

"I can't help. I don't know much myself. All I really know is that they kill. They're like assassins. Hunters that hunt hunters, their true passion is death, why else would they get a name like the Death Markers?"

"So are you telling me that my brother is marked for death?" Sam knew the answer before she even had time to think it. The question he asked for out of dumb hope. After all, if Dean had been marked for death, they could beat these people, keep his brother alive. Their previous conversation about evil and guilt would become totally irrelevant and Dean could go back to being the good guy that was there to keep Sam protected.

"No, you're dead before you can even get marked for death." She laughed as if Sam's question was that of a young child who just didn't understand, "You're brother has been branded for, I guess the best word would be - recruitment."

Sam looked at his brother. Dean had known ever since they'd left that school. This is what had been eating away at him. One of those 'minor' details he'd left out. Again. Sam only had his suspicions but Dean had known.

Dean shrugged, "Dude, our families cursed."

And it was so true. No matter how many evil things they destroyed, no matter how many people they saved, it wouldn't matter if they themselves became part of it. What was it he'd heard people say – when you hate something so much, it defines you and later consumes you until you become just like that thing you hate? Was that how Sam and Dean would end up? After all their efforts to stop the evil in the world?

"How do we get rid of it?" Sam asked in a tone that suggested urgency.

"I don't think you can get rid of it. Now look, I've told you as much as I know. So please, go." Her eyes were pleading with Sam; it was as if she refused to look at Dean - as if she stilled refused to believe that Dean could truly be a good guy.

Sam wasn't about to just walk out of the door, sure they might have found something sooner or later or one of their contacts might have known something, but this was information. It was information that they needed.

"Sammy, I don't think she really knows much more." Dean sighed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean had to stare at his brother intently for several long seconds before Sam finally gave up and decided Dean was right. So without assistance, they left the shop. Though Dean noticed that by the time they were seated in the Impala, the old hippy was once again locking up, only this time she appeared to be turning in for the night – probably scared they might change their mind and come back.

"I think you scared her." Dean smiled at Sam.

"I think that mark scared her a lot more than me." Trust Sam, refusing to lighten mood, determined to stay serious, "How the hell did she even know?"

"You're kidding right? Psychic wonder? That place had this serious Missouri vibe going on, I swear, it was creepy. I'm surprised she couldn't read our minds." Dean laughed.

"Do you think we should call Missouri? She might know something." Determined.

"Sam, I don't think it's going anywhere. My mind on the other hand is going to need a serious trip to dreamland soon and we got an exorcism to plan."

"So you just want to go back to the B&B?"

"Yeah, there's nothing wrong with that Sam."

And for all those arguments that Sam could possibly think up, there wasn't anything wrong with it. This was turning out to be a complicated and busy few days that would last awhile. And though he wanted to know what this mark meant for him, he wanted to save Nora more and that meant they had to come up with something to get her on her own. Well, at least he knew what his plan for tomorrow was.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	11. The Exorcist

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Okay, this chapter was a lot easier to write. I do have to say though that I do not condone the hitting of women (especially as I am a woman) and I hope I don't offend anyone in this chapter. No Winchesters were harmed physically in the making of this chapter though I can't say anything about their emotional states. Also, I've wrote this chapter so it could kind of occur after the 'Hunted' episode - so it might have a spoiler in for anyone who hasn't seen it or read about it (and the secret).

A quick reminder – I do not own Supernatural or anything to do with the show and if I did I would know what's so important about that necklace (it's killing me here).

Anyway, I will get started on the next chapter A.S.A.P.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

11. The Exorcist

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The next morning was spent preparing. Searching the local areas for small abandoned buildings or just quiet out of the way huts – somewhere where no questions would be asked if screams, shouts and Latin incantations were to be heard. This is what took the majority of their time.

They had found two possible places – when they went to inspect the first they found it to be a teen hideout where two teens were currently making out. Dean had found this highly amusing, unable to contain his childish laughter. Sam however had simply rolled his eyes and stared at his brother intently, silently telling him that he was embarrassing.

The second place was much better, more secluded and it looked like no one had been there for a while. The only problem was psychological and though neither brother would admit it, the place reminded them of the hut the demon had taken them to when it had possessed their father.

Psychological issues aside, the place would be perfect. Therefore the next step was to secure it. Usual precautions against supernatural attacks, salt at the entry ways and stuff like that. Then they set the place up, got everything ready for the exorcism – just like they remembered it from Meg's exorcism, just like Dean remembered from the crossroads. They still had the book, and they paid attention to every tiny detail.

And when the afternoon rolled in, the boys were on their way to Riverton Edge.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So how are we going to get her there?" Sam asked, they were parked up near the Dodge House.

"Knock her out." Dean said simply.

"What?"

"You're gonna punch her and knock her out cold."

"But Dean, she's a woman."

"No, she's a woman being possessed by a demon."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"'Cause I don't want to."

"'Cause she's a woman?"

"Okay, yeah! 'Cause she's a woman. Well what do you suggest we do then, college boy?"

"We could pose as cops."

"Two problems with that - one, she'll scream bloody murder and tell her husband we're fake and two, how would Nora explain what happened when we're done?"

In the end it took five rounds of 'rock, paper, scissors' to decide who would be the one to knock Nora out. Dean won. Of course Dean won – he could read his little brother too well. Sam thought too much about it – thought too much about what Dean would think he was choosing and then he would choose the remaining one, but Dean would have thought about that, so he would go with what he originally chose. Two times out of the five, Sam actually won. Dean had felt sorry for him but what Sammy didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

They looked at the time. Kids would probably be in school, or at least that what they reasoned. Where Nora and her husband were was a different matter, so Dean and Sam waited. They watched. They waited. They watched some more and waited some more. And then eventually they saw the front door opening, it was the 'happy couple'. Nora was giving her husband a goodbye kiss as he left the house. When he was out of sight and when they were sure no one would notice anything – they'd pay Nora a visit.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Back so soon?" She teased, "I didn't know I was so missable."

"Yeah, we missed you loads." Dean smirked, stepping inside the house.

"What can I do for you?" She asked.

"Well, you could just fall unconscious and save Sam the trouble of having to hit a woman."

"Sorry, can't do…" But before she finished, Sam had knocked her out.

He grimaced as she fell into Dean's arms, "I can't believe you made me do that."

Dean barely managed to suppress that smile he saved for annoying his younger brother. Instead he focused on keeping Nora up right so it didn't look suspicious when they carried her outside to the car.

One concerned and rather nosy neighbour watched and opened her mouth to ask what was going on.

"I don't know, Nora just kind of felt sick and went all dizzy. We thought we'd take her to get checked out." The sucker actually believed their story, "Can you tell Mr Dodge that we'll call when we're done? Tell him not too worry, probably just a little under the weather."

The neighbour nodded and went back to nosing at the other neighbours. She'd probably inform Mr Dodge, if only to be let in on what was happening.

So bundling the unconscious Mrs Dodge, that Sam had punched, into the car – they were once again on the road and driving towards their newly found hideaway.

They were parked up and at the hut before Nora woke up, she was mocking the brothers. Didn't really threaten them much, just mocked them. Dean found it amusing. Sam found it frustrating. Sam found it so frustrating that he hit his head when he was pulling her from the car. This sent her into a fit of laughter.

"Goddamn it!" Sam swore loudly.

"Hey Sam, not in front of a lady." Dean said.

"Why Dean, I didn't know you thought of me like that." The demon smirked.

"Oh sweetie, I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about the car."

She nodded; the smirk remained on her face. She'd walked right into that one – quietly but approvingly she muttered, "Bastard."

There was a semi comfortable chair placed in the centre of Sam and Dean's masterpiece. This is what they tied Nora to.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Hey Dean, I left the book in the car." Sam said.

"So? Go get it."

"I had to hit our friend here, you go get it."

Dean set his face and walked off for the book, "You better not do anything stupid."

Sam wasn't planning on doing anything stupid. He just wanted this demon to maybe answer a few questions without Dean stopping him

"Mmm, I got a Winchester all by himself. What you plan to do with me?"

"I wanna ask you a few things."

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies." She smiled, childishly.

"How do I get rid out it?"

"Get rid of what?" Sam snarled, she just kept mocking him. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

"The death mark."

"You can't get rid of it. It's there for life. And it'll even be there after death."

"Fine, if you won't tell me that – tell me what they want with my brother."

"That's none of your business. That's between them and your brother."

"My brothers business is my business."

"Believe me, you don't want to know."

"But I do." Dean spoke quietly from the doorway. Sam spun round; shocked to see him back.

"They want you to work with them, fight for them."

"I'll never do that."

"You can't save Sam." The demon taunted, "So you might as well give into your killer instincts and just go to them. At least that way when the war comes, you and your brother will be on the same side."

"Neither of us is switching sides. And when we send you back to hell, you can make sure you tell all your little friends the same thing." Dean growled.

He opened the book and handed it to Sam. True, he could do just as good a job as Sam but he preferred to let Sam do the Latin so he could focus on staring intently and unblinkingly at the demon as it screamed and asked for mercy.

"You're a killer Dean." It ground out, "What do you think this is going to do to Nora?"

She was bluffing; surely she didn't actually think she could away with that. "Unless you been diving from buildings and landing flat on your face, I think she'll be just fine."

"Bastards." She managed to get this out just before Sam finished the incantation and she was sent back to her own personal hell.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Nora's hanging head slowly lifted up as the brothers untied her, she seemed completely unharmed…

"You hit me!" She stared accusingly at Sam.

…apart from a nice bruise that had formed on her face, "Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

The hardest part of the day was explaining everything to Nora. She remembered most of it. She felt violated and hated being told the reason she couldn't control her body was because a demon had possessed her. These people we crazy!

But after finally convincing her that everything was fine now and regretting that one more person now knew what hid in the darkness, they drove Nora home, back to Riverton Edge, back to the Dodge House. And when she was back safely in her house –

"Dude, you hit a woman!" Dean looked at his brother seriously for a second before smiling slightly and starting his car up.

"Shut up, Jerk."

"Bitch."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And the day was done. And after making a couple of phone calls, both brothers were convinced that the other victims from the school were fine. Janet Hall had woken up – sure she had a slight case of amnesia but from what they heard, she was fine.

There was just the one last victim of the Death Markers that the brothers needed to worry about. He lay tossing and turning in his bed, moaning and grumbling incoherently. Words being played in his head.

"You can't deny what you are." The voice said to him.

He mumbled something threatening back; probably tell the voice to 'go away'.

"You're a killer, Dean."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	12. White Out

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

My reasoning for the beginning – well of all the normal ways to hurt Dean, I just think it would be funny if he fell out of bed. And the whole bunny thing – it's a conspiracy theory of… of a friend… it's not mine, I swear. Why are you looking at me like that? I hope you enjoy this chapter – I'm also hope it makes sense to you and doesn't come across as a jumbled up mess that consists mainly of dialogue.

Next chapter – hopefully the boys will be taking a trip to Bobby's.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

12. White Out

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

THUMP!

"Ow." Came a muffled response.

And "What the hell?" came the reply to that.

Sam rolled over to his side and in the dim light he could just make out Dean lying face down on the floor, muddled up in his blankets.

"I fell out of bed?" Dean mumbled whilst pulling himself up and back onto his bed.

"You think?"

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

"Was it a nightmare?" Sam asked with a serious note in his voice.

"I don't do nightmares." Dean lied. He had nightmares; he just refused to talk about them.

"Bullshit."

"Go back to sleep Sammy."

"Dean, I'm tired. It's been a long couple of days but I don't want to go to sleep until you tell me what happened."

"I had a bad dream, it happens, and I fell out of bed."

"And that's all?"

"Yes, that's all."

Dean lay down, facing away from his brother. He put his hand up to his chest. The mark felt like it was burning again and that damn bitch wouldn't leave him alone in his dreams. Had it really been her or was that his subconscious?

"Night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean was up first the following day and this wasn't until nearly dinner time. He was on the laptop. Searching for anything out of the ordinary. Searching for their next hunt.

He watched his sleeping brother, he knew what Sam would say and unless he found a lead soon Sam would probably still say it.

"Possessed bunnies?" Dean questioned as he read an article in front of him, "They're already evil, why would anyone need to possess them?"

"What?" Sam said, waking only to hear the last question.

"Just looking for our next hunting gig."

"No. We're not doing another hunting gig yet. We're gonna call Bobby and maybe the roadhouse, see if anyone's heard of Death Markers or the Death Mark."

"Can't we just leave it?" _And hope it goes away…_

"And what happens the next time these guys come? We'll be completely unprepared."

As much as he hated to admit, Sam did have a point. They needed to know but Dean didn't want others know why they were looking.

"I'll take that silence as defeat." Sam smiled, "So you can get us some coffee and I'll call Bobby."

"You'd think rooms at this price would come with its own coffee." Dean grumbled as he left to do what his brother had said.

Sam was left in shock, Dean doing what he'd been told, he must be down.

When the shock had gone, Sam decided to jump in the shower before flipped through his phone book to call Bobby.

"Sam?"

"Hey Bobby."

"What's up? You boys in trouble?"

"Maybe, I dunno. Have you ever heard of a Death Mark?"

"Death Mark? Like a symbol?"

"Yeah."

"Oh please tell me you haven't got yourselves caught up in stuff like that. It's dangerous Sam, you and Dean might not be able to handle it alone."

"That a yes then?"

"Yeah, it's a yes. Where ever it is you are, you should get away before anyone sees you. Death Markers don't exactly like hunters."

"Afraid we've already been noticed. Bobby, we need information on these guys before something bad happens."

From the hall way Sam thought he heard a muffled smash. He paid no attention; someone probably just knocked something over. The most he did was walk closer to the door to listen.

"How long will it take to get here 'cause this isn't stuff you can talk about over the phone."

He didn't get a chance to answer, another smashing noise, followed by a small thud came from the hall outside now. He opened the door to look.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean was on his way back up to the room, he grimaced as he looked at the coffee slopping about in the cups like sludge. Horrible black smelly sludge. He'd had a nice little chat with the old cook, dropping a couple of hints about changing filters and what not but nothing got through, she was nearly as dense as the coffee and that was saying something.

"You got any fruit?" He'd asked, his stomach reminding him that it hadn't been filled for a while.

"I have a couple of bananas." She said, holding up a couple of brown messy things.

"Nah, that's okay. I'm allergic." He lied. He was hungry but he didn't want something as bad as that on his stomach.

So he was heading back to the room with just two coffees. As soon as he'd had a shower and was dressed, he was heading back to that café with the pretty waitress and getting a decent breakfast – he checked his watch, well dinner anyway. If Sam hurried, he might even wait for him.

Dean stopped dead, a rush of heat flowing through him and a painful stab in his chest. He felt his hand drop a cup as it flew to cover the mark. He felt himself losing balance, his vision blurring, knees weakening. What the hell was happening to him?

He fell to his knees, losing grip on the second cup now. It crashed to the floor, splattering sludge.

"Dean!" Though his vision was blurry, he recognised that voice. It was Sam. Why did Sam sound so far away? Why had the sudden heat turned to cold?

He felt an arm wrap round his waist pulling him to his feet.

"Dean?" Sam said again, but still, he sounded so far away. Yet wasn't that his little brother gripping him tightly, leading him back to the room?

His vision wasn't blurry any more, it was going, everything was going light, white. Voices too distant; too muffled to understand. All except one. It grew stronger as he felt the pain subside.

Dean no longer knew if his body was standing, sitting or even lying down. He didn't care, he focused on the voice. It made the pain go away. But he couldn't quite hear what it was saying. He strained, as strong as it sounded and as clear as it was, he couldn't understand it. He wanted to know, he wanted to know more than anything.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	13. Unheard Words

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

I really have to say thank you for my reviews, I probably would have stopped writing well before now if it wasn't for them. I'm sorry I don't reply to them individually but again, I say thank you. And thanks for everyone who's been reading my story. This chapter didn't quite go as smoothly as I'd planned but it's here.

Something to look forward to – I've decided we need a little more physical pain. :D I'm just evil.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

13. Unheard Words

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

They were being whispered directly into his ear but still he couldn't hear, he couldn't understand. If only he could make out just one word, then he could go on from there. But the voice died away…

Everything came rushing back at once. The voices of the people around him, two to be exact – Sam was one of them, the other was an old woman. He suddenly became aware that he was in fact lying down, his knees felt sore from where they'd hit the floor. He opened his eyes, vision taking a few seconds to adjust. He groaned.

"Hey Dean. You had me worried there, man. Where'd you go?" The young and worried face belonging to Sam came into view.

"Disneyland." Dean moaned, trying to sit up.

"You made a bit of a mess in the hall you know, lucky Mrs Smith –_ Dean questioned himself for a second, he felt his lips forming 'who' until he remembered, 'ahh, the woman who owns this place'_ - is more worried about you or we'd have to clean up." Sam thought for a second, "And I'm really not sure how to get, whatever that stuff is off the carpet."

Sam smiled at his mild joke and Dean had to appreciate the guys attempt at hiding his worry through joking. _I think I've rubbed off on you a bit._

"What happened?" Dean asked, though this was a bad move. This was a move that would worry Sam even more.

"I was kind of hoping you could tell me." Sam's voice shook ever so slightly, jokes gone, "You were all pale and your eyes were kind of… glazed."

"You trying to tell me I fainted?" He remembered the sensation of hot and cold, of his vision whitening. But he remember the burning on his chest the most and this he definitely wouldn't tell his brother about, that and the voice he'd heard, heard but not understood.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Probably just lack of food. We have been running on low." He smiled at his brother, "Dude, I'm fine. Quite worrying."

"Right well, you need a shower 'cause you stink and then we're getting some food in you and going to see Bobby."

"Bobby?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam didn't explain, he just shot that 'don't start with me' look at Dean and mumbling incoherently in protest Dean had done as he had been told. He took longer in the shower than normal, not enough to worry over but still Sam worried. He had even considered knocking on the door or shouting of his brother, just so he could hear a reply.

When Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, the brothers packed their stuff up. They were leaving town, probably one of the shortest stays they'd had but it had been tiring and they had one pit stop to make before heading over to Bobby's. Food. Real edible food.

The pretty little thing, that called herself Sherry, walked up to the boys as they took their seat in the café. It was the same café from the other day, the same seats and the same waitress. Dean flashed her a charming smile, eying her appreciatively. She blushed and smiled back, obviously a lot happier with the attention she had managed to get from him this time around.

"How can I help you?" She asked.

Dean's smile widened slightly, "I can think of many ways but I think we'll settle with two burgers and fries, please."

Sam watched Dean with his flirting, nodding in agreement at the order. As much as Dean may have been interested in this waitress, Sam couldn't help but feel he was putting on a show, as if to tell Sam that he was perfectly fine and the last couple of days hadn't affected him, or the past couple of months or the past couple of years.

"And two coffee's please." Sam added.

The brothers could barely contain their hunger as the smell of edible food drifted to them. The coffee tasted so much better than the B&B's and when they burgers and fries arrived, they were gone within minutes. And after paying for their delicious and filling food, so were the boys.

Sam snatched the keys of Dean, "I'm driving."

"You only had to ask." Dean glared at Sam, moving to the passenger side, "But that means it'll take even longer for us to get there."

"I don't care; at least we'll be there in one piece."

"Just saying, it'd be quicker if I drive." But Sam ignored Dean's protests, starting up the car.

Dean started mumbling as he searched the front of the car. Searching the glove compartment. Searching the floor.

"What are you looking for?"

"My shades, if I have to be the passenger then I'm going to sleep."

"Didn't you get enough sleep last night?"

"How would you know? I was up well before you." Dean smiled triumphantly as he placed his shades over his eyes, "So shut up and drive."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean hadn't realised how easy it could be to fall asleep after a couple of rough days, especially in a car with slow rocking motions. He didn't even realise he had fallen asleep. He turned his head to the side and let out a small moan. It was dark. Probably because his eyes were shut. But he didn't want to open them; he was far too comfortable to open them.

He only realised that he was asleep when he heard the voice. "Sam?" He muttered questioningly into the darkness.

The voice replied but it wasn't Sam's. It was a feminine voice. Dean opened his eyes to search for the source but it was still strangely dark. He couldn't even make out his body as he looked down.

Okay, so he couldn't see who was there, he could only hear them. No, it wasn't just sound. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, but still he couldn't see anything. He could smell her sweet scent and he could feel her breath in his ear, she whispered. He didn't understand. Not until he felt a sharp pain in his gut and she spoke again.

"Good night." She said and the pain got worse, going deeper through his abdomen.

And Dean caught only the beginning of the next thing she said – "If you survive…" – before he was woken up by his brother violently shaking him.

"What?" Dean shot up, staring blankly at the darkness in front of him. He fumbled about, removing his shades to look at his brother.

"You sounded like you were in pain." Sam replied, he was biting his lip in worry.

"_You'll_ be in pain if you wake me up like that again." Though he was silently glad to be awoken from whatever dream it was he was having. Somewhere inside of him, he wanted to know what it was the mysterious woman had been about to say, he needed to know but the bigger and more sensible part of him told him that if he ever found out, it wouldn't be good and it would mean trouble.

Sam opened his mouth to object, but Dean looked away and out the window at the unmoving scenery, "Leave it Sam, and just get us back on the road. I can't believe you pulled over just to wake me up."

"You're a stubborn jerk, do you know that?" Sam growled, starting the Impala back up. Dean didn't reply to him. Even if he wanted to tell Sam about the dream, how could he? It didn't make any sense to him. He felt like a pit had formed in his stomach. What was happening to him?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So what trouble have you boys been getting into?" Bobby asked when the boys finally knocked on his door.

"Well you know us; trouble finds us wherever we go." Dean smirked.

"So I've noticed," Bobby couldn't help but smile, "You going to tell me what you were up to then?"

"Just routine hunt, some disappearances – we went to investigate." Sam spoke quietly; he'd already decided a hundred miles back that this was the answer he'd give to that question.

"Right, so where does the death mark come into it?"

Although he'd known this question was coming, he hadn't thought of an answer. He looked to Dean and before he could reply, Dean started telling Bobby his 'story'.

"One of the missing people had it kind of burned onto them."

"Where are they now?" Bobby asked, as if this might be important.

"We're keeping in touch with him." Sam said, glancing at Dean once more.

"Well, you'll probably lose touch 'cause if he's been marked then they want him – and they don't give up easy when they want something."

"What d'you think's going to happen to him?" Sam gulped slightly, he hadn't meant to. He hadn't meant to show any signs of worry. He found himself looking determinedly at Bobby, carefully avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Poor bastard will either get himself killed or he'll be given a gift."

"Killed?" Sam barely managed to choke the word out.

"Yeah but if he's strong enough he'll get a gift, and then he'll use that gift to kill targets, hunters like us."

"But he's a good guy, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't." Sam protested.

"Sam, this guy must have done something to get their attention. There's obviously something he's not telling you."

"He's a good guy." Sam repeated; he couldn't hide the anger in his voice and the note of danger to his attitude. He couldn't blame Bobby for saying those things – but he wanted to blame someone for whatever might happen to Dean.

"Easy there, Sammy." Dean said with his eyes full of warning and worry before turning his attention to Bobby, "You said a gift? You mean a weapon of some kind?"

"Yeah, look I ain't heard much about these guys for a while so some of the details might be a little sketchy."

"Doesn't matter; just tell us what you can. Like what could make a good guy go all bad ass and join these Death Markers?"

Bobby sighed, "I really don't know what this guy has been telling you but they don't recruit good guys. Hell, they barely recruit anyone unless they're deadly and rarely ever humans."

"Deadly?" Dean smirked slightly, he couldn't help it, "Hear that Sammy, deadly."

"Dean, this isn't funny." Sam chided, "If they don't use good guys, what the hell are they up to?"

Bobby's face grew puzzled, "What aren't you two telling me?"

Sam rerouted the subject, "Can we stop them before they make whatever it is they're doing official?"

"Doubtful, like I said, when they want something they'll stop at nothing to get it. You know you're Daddy wouldn't like you messing around with this stuff, he'd tell you to stay away and back off."

Dean's face became solemn, "Sometimes things happen and you can't back off."

"We need to know that we can stop them. We have to stop them." Sam said.

Bobby shook his head, "You can't save everyone."

Dean put his hand over his chest, over the mark and looked at Sam. Sam stared back in disbelief and pleading – the silent words not reaching Dean's ears. _Dean, no, you can't…_

"What about ourselves?" He asked, he lifted the shirt slowly.

The reason he lifted it so slowly wasn't to keep the suspense, it wasn't because that's the way this stuff happened in the movies, it was because he was hesitant, not quite sure if he was doing the right thing. The look on Bobby's face when his eyes fell onto the mark told Dean all he needed to know.

He was screwed.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I love my cliffies – I know they're mean but I figure it gives you something to ponder about. Something to hope for.


	14. Gift

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Thank you again for all your encouragement. After reading a few fics, while waiting for my muse, that mentioned M&Ms I suddenly got a craving for them… so I had to go out and buy them – the normal chocolate kind though, I don't like nuts. Bit of useless information for you there. And by the way - did you know that M&M's supposedly stands for Mars & Murrie's - cool huh?

I would like to apologise about the amount of curse words I seem to be using. I'm not the swearing type honestly, but in the position they're in, you can't blame them for swearing. Anyway, I hope this chapter is up to standard.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

14. Gift

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The night was dark and silent, except for the footsteps of a lonely wanderer. His cold hands dug deep into the pockets of his leather jacket as he tried to protect them from the wind. He was alone, but he was watched. He seemed to know this, unease settled on his breathing. He was calm and collected but still, uneasy. The crunching of gravel so close behind him made him pause, a cautious pause, a careful stop. The crunching faded but the presence lingered.

He turned around and found himself face to face with a beautiful brunette. She smiled, he grimaced. And her words slipped from her mouth like a snake, slithering through the air to his ears.

"Bonus nox."

The lonely wanderer had little time to register these Latin words, let alone their meaning as the devil woman before him thrust a knife into his stomach. His blood quickly leaked from the new wound and soaked through his shirt, tainting it a deep crimson.

She leant into him, forcing the knife deeper. She held him and whispered into his ear. Unheard words she whispered, before kissing his cheek and turning away to face another man. She left the blade in his stomach and he felt he had no strength to remove it. Before the blackness hit him, he saw the flash of yellow in the eyes of the devil woman's friend.

"Son of a bitch!" Sam screamed.

"Woah, easy bro. You feeling okay?" Dean placed his hand against Sam, stopping him from standing up.

It had been far too quick; he barely even noticed the signs, too preoccupied with his own dilemma. Dean cursed under his breath. As he'd raised his shirt to show Bobby the real reason they were there, Sam had been hit with one of those stupid vision things. It had sent him completely off balance; it had sent both brothers off balance. Bobby had a chance to see the mark and make a face that told Dean that simply, he was screwed and before either could start talking about it, Dean found his body automatically stumbling towards Sam, steadying him, sitting him down.

"It's him, Dean. He's done this. That bastard."

"What? Who?" was all Dean could manage.

"The demon."

"So it was a vision?"

"Dean…" Sam started but be couldn't go any further. He looked at his brother and then his eyes fell to Dean's abdomen, Dean's unharmed abdomen. He desperately wanted to tell his brother that no, it wasn't a vision just a migraine attack. It wasn't the pain that only came with the blinding flash of images from visions, but he knew Dean wouldn't believe him.

"Sam, what was it?" Dean spoke these words commandingly. He found himself forgetting where they were, forgetting what they'd been doing and forgetting that Bobby was watching them. All that mattered was Sam.

"I saw the demon, he was with a woman…" he paused.

"Was he hurting her?"

"No, he was watching her."

"Okay, so I didn't really take him for the stalker type."

"Dean, she…" Sam's eyes rose to meet his brothers, "…She stabbed you."

Dean found himself shocked, it wasn't the first time he'd been in Sam's visions and it wasn't the first time he'd died in Sam's visions, but still, it was a little disconcerting.

"What else, Sammy?" Dean encouraged.

"She said 'bonus nox' and then she just dug the knife in."

"'Bonus nox'? Good night?" Dean's mind went spinning. Those words. It couldn't be related. His dizzy spell, his dream, they couldn't be anything to do with Sam's vision. He remembered in his dream there had been more, more that he hadn't fully heard, "That's it? That's all she said?"

It was out of hope but the light was extinguished as Sam shook his head, "She whispered something to you, I couldn't hear her. I don't know what she said."

"Who was she?" Dean gulped. Unheard whispers…

"I dunno, she was just some woman. Some creepy woman, the way she talked…"

"Was like an icy snake?" Dean suggested.

Not quite the way Sam would have described it but accurate none the less, he nodded, "Dean, she isn't the one who put that thing on you, is she?"

Dean stood up from his kneeling position beside Sam, "I dunno, Sammy, I wasn't in your vision with you. I didn't see her."

"But you think it was?"

Dean didn't reply. He didn't look at his brother. It made no sense…

"First they want you to join them and then they stab you? Dean, this is wrong and now it's linked to the demon." Sam pleaded.

Bobby cleared his throat gently, reminding the brothers of his presence, "Sam, did you see what it was she stabbed him with?"

Sam pressed his hands against his eyes, "It was dark. I couldn't see much. I think it was silver and it was sharp, just some kind of dagger. I don't know."

"Was there any markings?" Bobby asked.

"Markings? Why?" Dean shot at him.

"I couldn't see, it was in her hand for about a second before she… I didn't have time to see."

"Bobby?"

Bobby was moving towards a set of books, shuffling them about, as if he was looking for something.

"Bobby?" Dean repeated, a little louder this time.

"Bobby, you said if he wasn't strong enough he'd get himself killed…" Sam said, "Otherwise he'd get a gift, a weapon of some sort?"

"Yeah." Bobby said simply, still rummaging.

"Well she left the dagger in him." Sam said slowly.

"Oh well, that's nice of her, didn't even have the sense to pull the knife back out of me." Dean snorted, oblivious to the cogs turning in Sam's brains.

"If he survives – _Deans eyes snapped toward Sam, those words from him his dream echoed in his head 'If you survive' _– then that would make him strong enough and the dagger would be a gift right?"

Dean found himself torn between listening to the two hunters in front of him and remembering his dream. He almost felt like he was back in that darkness with her, her smell, her breath and that cold sharp pain. The pain had been like a switch, allowing him to hear her words.

"Dean?" Sam waved a hand in front of his brother's face.

"What?" Dean snapped out of his daze.

"It's some kind of initiation." Bobby had obviously just been explaining something to the pair of them, only Dean had drifted off in his own thoughts.

"And then what happens?"

"I don't know. Like I said, they don't recruit good guys so this is something new, different."

"Well, I guess we got a lot of work to do."

Dean found himself groaning, more research. "Can't we just find another gig, kill some evil sons of bitches and research in the background if we have time?"

"Dean, this is dangerous. You could be in serious trouble." Sam stared hard at Dean as he spoke.

"Look, unless they're working some serious mojo, I ain't joining them or whatever it is they want. Besides, I gotta set a good example for my younger brother." Dean shrugged, "And you know, while we're trying to find out what these guys are up to, all sorts of evil can be harming innocent people – how do we know this wasn't there plan from the start?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was nearly a month later. Dean had been surprised at how easily he'd persuaded his brother to just hunt instead of spending weeks on end researching – but after they'd found their next gig (which turned out to be a false alarm), Sam had barely ever slept, constantly looking for answers, whether on his laptop or talking over his cell. Yet no matter how much he looked, he never seemed to get any closer to the truth.

Their only consolation was that they'd heard nothing from the Death Markers or the demon. No more freaky dreams or visions from either brother, no more fainting spells or pain from unknown sources (except last week when they'd ran into a poltergeist – but the good old 'salt and burn' method had seen to that).

And now the brothers were resting in another haphazardly styled motel room. Sam lay asleep on his bed, undisturbed and peaceful. Dean was more than pleased that Sam had finally decided to get some sleep; he'd been drinking so much coffee lately that Dean thought his little brother would end up with an ulcer. But Sam had reasoned that he needed to drink the coffee 'cause he needed to stay awake so he could look after Dean.

As Dean picked up the motel key and walked out the door, he was relieved to be alone for awhile. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his brother's protectiveness but Sam never wanted Dean out of sight, especially not at night, he hated the thought of him going out walking alone because of that vision which had yet to happen. Dean knew that if he mentioned the over protectiveness it would just backfire and Sam'd say Dean was just the same, but Dean was allowed to be – he was the 'older' brother.

His feet crunched on the gravel as he walked against the wind. He really needed this walk, this peace from watchful eyes, just so he could clear his mind. The night seemed to grow darker as he walked further away from the motel, he should have just gotten in the Impala but he didn't want to waste gas. His footsteps were all he could hear as he wandered.

He rubbed his hands lightly, trying to warm them but that was useless so he just gave up and stuffed them into his pockets. He closed his eyes, taking in the cool air, he was completely…

No, he wasn't completely alone. He could sense the eyes following him, his heart skipped a beat and his breathing quickened slightly. The first time he'd decided to take a wander by himself in a month and now? Now the vision would come true?

The gravel crunched behind him and he stopped dead. He didn't want to turn around, he knew who was there.

"Long time no see, bitch." He mocked staring straight ahead, determined to be stubborn, "Before you go stabbing me, why don't you tell me what your plan is?"

No answer. Had he been mistaken? Was he actually all by himself?

He turned slowly and found himself face to face with the snake like brunette. She smiled at him, he twisted his face in disgust. And then she spoke with the same icy quality that she always spoke with.

"Bonus nox."

_Damn_. That's all Dean thought as he braced himself for the pain. The knife was thrust into his stomach. It hurt more than he thought it would and as his blood soaked his shirt, the evil woman leant in and forced the blade deeper.

She held him and he wanted to break away but he felt paralyzed. And then she whispered into his hear. Those words he'd been unable to hear in his dreams, the words Sam had been unable to hear in his vision, rang loudly through his mind.

"If you survive, take this knife as a gift." She kissed his cheek and turned away.

And as Dean saw the flash of yellow eyes in the shadow, he sunk to his knees. He felt himself fading into blackness.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	15. Getting out of town

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

Okay, I would like to thank everyone for reading and for your reviews. It's really encouraging. As you can see there is a recap below and I know it's kind of long but I thought as this is now chapter 15, details might be getting fuzzy and I'd better sum up the first 14 chapters. You don't need to read it, but it's there just in case.

Recap:

Dean was kidnapped during a routine hunt only to find out that it was setup, he was branded and left for Sam to find. Because of something the society known as Death Markers did to him, Dean is forced to remember his last meeting with a reaper – though he still doesn't understand why just yet.

Instead of finding out just what this society wants with Dean, Dean is determined to finish the job at hand and exorcise the demons possessing innocent people brought into this by the Death Markers. During this, Sam forces Dean to tell him the truth about what he knows and when they are satisfied with the job they've done, Sam decides it's time to find out more.

They gain information from a bookstore owner and later from Bobby, who both warn the boys that the Death Markers are big trouble. It is discovered that the Death Markers want Dean to join them but as he's a good guy, they don't understand why and after another painful vision – of Dean being stabbed – they find out that somehow the yellow-eyed demon is involved.

And nearly a month later after returning to their hunting and hearing nothing from the society or the yellow eyed demon, Sam's vision comes true and we last saw Dean blacking out whilst bleeding to death by the side of a road.

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15. Getting out of town

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"Dean!" Sam awoke from a dream with his brothers names on his lips but as soon as he'd opened his eyes, he couldn't remember what had happened to make him call it. Had he'd been calling for Dean to help him, or had Dean been the one in trouble. Sam sighed; it was just one of those nightmares that showed you things you fear.

Sleepily he scanned the tacky motel room for his brother. Nothing. He looked over at the empty bed next to his, "Dean?"

A clap of thunder roared in the distance, a storm was coming.

"Please don't let tonight be the night." Sam whispered to himself as he searched for his cell. Finally finding it and dialling Dean's number, Sam was already dressed and moving towards the motel room door before the ringing cut to voicemail. On his way out he noticed the Impala's keys sitting on a table. Wherever Dean had gone, he'd left the Impala behind; this would give Sam the advantage.

Sam hopped into the Impala and went to turn out from the motel.

"Left or right?" He asked, "Which way did you go?"

He tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, trying to decide. There was a bar so far up the road to the left but a quick glance at the time told Sam that even that type of bar wouldn't be open.

"Okay, I'm going right." He said aloud, praying his brother would be in that direction and he would be completely unharmed.

As he turned out of the motel car park, he tried calling Dean again. Still no answer. He felt like screaming down the line at Dean to answer his phone, even though he knew it wouldn't work.

A minute had barely passed before Sam heard the difference of the road. This part of the road was made of gravel. "Oh God, please no, please don't let me be late."

He slowed a little, keeping his eyes peeled for anything unusual. He hadn't even noticed the quickening in the claps of thunder or the occasional flash of lightening. The storm was getting closer and he needed to find Dean.

One last time Sam tried calling Dean's cell, as he reached the voicemail once more he hung up and threw his phone onto the passenger seat, "Goddammit!"

And to top it all off, rain started pounding against the car. Not drizzle, no it wouldn't be drizzle, not for a Winchester. The really bad weather was reserved for the Winchesters, especially when one of them might be lying injured somewhere with a knife in his gut.

Just as hope was fading, Sam saw the lump at the side of the road. The dark lump being pounded by the rain. He pulled the car up and rushed to the lumps side.

"Dean?" Sam pleaded. He looked down at the lump, at the paling complexion of his brother and with a sickening feeling, he saw the knife. "Dean, please, come on, open your eyes or something."

His hand was shaking now as he reached out to feel his older brother's neck for a pulse. It was there but it was weak. It was very weak.

"Come on Dean, wake up, I really need you to wake up." Sam tapped Dean's face lightly, hoping for any sign of consciousness. Nothing.

Preferably Sam would have wanted Dean to be awake, but either way, Sam knew he had to stabilise him and get him to an emergency room as soon as possible. "Hang in there Dean."

He pulled his jacket off and looked down at the knife and bloody wound. He had no choice, he'd have to pull the knife out because he really didn't want to risk it causing any more damage. Biting his lip, he pulled the offending object out and was pleased to hear the slightest groan of protest from Dean, Sam then pressed his coat against Dean's wound.

"Okay Dean, I'm going to try and get you into the car, and then we're taking a trip to hospital."

Without even knowing why, Sam picked the bloody but slightly rain washed knife up and chucked into the Impala almost immediately behind him and he did the best he could to lie his brother in the back seat. Once there, he pulled a first aid box out from under the front seat, if he didn't at least try and patch Dean up, he'd die on the way to the hospital.

"Dean, don't you dare die on me. I swear if you do I'll kick your ass!"

And with that, Sam was speeding along the road, headed for the closest hospital.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The sickly taste in Dean's mouth told him he must have been asleep for awhile. He felt so comfortable and cosy that he didn't want to open his eyes for fear it would face away. He paid little attention to the beeping noises around him or the light that shone through his eye lids. He felt something move and heard voices off in the distant.

"Five more minutes?" He asked, readjusting himself in the warmth of the bed.

"Dean!" Came the shocked but please reply to this.

"Dude, please, I'm trying to sleep." Dean moaned, not opening his eyes.

"Haven't you had enough sleep?" The voice mocked.

Dean slowly opened one eye and peered at his brother who was staring intently at him. Suddenly he became very aware that the place was far too white and far too clean to be their motel room.

"What the…?" He said, sitting up and looking around, "Sammy, what's going on?"

"You're in hospital, have been for the past two and a half days. You really had me worried."

"And I'm in hospital why?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Dean widened his eyes, racking his brains for memories of the past week. There was the tacky motel room, sleeping Sam and restless him. Then there was that walk and then…

"Oh." Dean said in realisation.

"You were in pretty bad shape, the doctors are amazed you managed to pull through though they did mention how there was the slight possibility you might not wake up."

"So is this good news or bad news?" Dean asked.

"You're alive." Sam said simply, as if that was all there was to it.

Dean sighed, "So how long do I have to stay in this place for?"

Sam suddenly jumped, startled by these words, "I totally forget, I should really tell someone you've woken up…"

"Hey, why bother, I could just get dressed and we can slip out without them even knowing."

The look on Sam's face reminded Dean of their father so much, such authority commanding Dean to stop being so damn stupid. Dean felt himself sulk into the sheets like a six year old as Sam left the room to find a nurse.

After a thorough once over the doctor finally spoke, "Well, to be honest, I would like you to stay in for at least a little longer. Your vitals seem to be fine, though I am still worried about the possibility of your wound reopening."

"Please, I really don't like hospitals, for the amount of times I've been in and out them – I just don't like them okay?" Dean said.

"Okay, I'd like to see you eat some food first and then I'll think about releasing you later this afternoon. I have to say, I'm amazed at how well your bodies coping especially with the severity of the wound."

"Runs in the family, fast healers. You need to be for what we do."

"And whatever it is that you do, you'll have to avoid it for a few weeks. If you strain yourself too much, that wound will reopen."

"Okay, so I get my brother to act of my personal slave? Will that do?" Dean pleaded.

The doctor smiled, "Get something to eat first and we'll see if you can keep it down."

He turned to leave the room but as he got to the door he paused and looked over at Dean, "I meant to ask, that mark, on your chest, it looks pretty nasty, where..."

"Just an accident a month or two back, deal with some crazy people in our business." Dean interrupted, not wanting questions asked.

And at last the doctor was gone and the brothers were left alone. They were pleased at this because although neither of them knew what to say, they had a big problem on their hands and it needed dealing with.

Dean bit his lip, "The knife?"

Sam shot him a shocked look, "You're not thinking about keeping it are you?"

"Dude, the thing could have killed me, why would I?" Though as he said this, he felt guilty. He felt guilty because he was lying to his brother and he felt guilty because he was actually thinking about keeping it. He'd earned it, he'd survived. He was still here and she'd said that the knife was his gift if he survived.

"No." Dean spoke firmly, though he hadn't meant to speak out loud, it had meant to be an inner command, telling him to stop thinking such things.

"How's your stomach?"

"I've felt a lot worse pain." Dean smiled; it was a genuine smile because he had felt a lot worse. In fact, the pain that accompanied this wound was barely even on the same scale as his heart attack, or the demon's attack. Except when he moved. After remembering the wound, he had realised that every time he tried to move, he winced. So he tried to move as little as possible in front of Sammy.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After eating some reasonably edible hospital food and having a few more quick tests, Dean was finally released from the hospital by eight o'clock. It was dark and Sam was driving, he refused to let Dean do it and in reluctance Dean gave up arguing, though Dean had no idea where he was driving to because they had just passed the motel they had been staying in and were driving past the towns sign saying 'good bye and come back soon'.

"Err, Sam?"

Sam didn't look, he was chewing on his lip, "What?"

"Where we going?"

"Did you hit your head or something? Now that you're out of the hospital we're getting out of that town, they knew we were there, they knew you were there."

"I doubt it'll make a difference where we go, they'll still come, both of them."

"Both? You mean them and the demon?"

Dean felt like saying 'duh' but he refrained and nodded himself and made a noise which Sam took to meaning 'yes'.

"Right."

And they fell silent. Neither quite knew what to say to the other because neither wanted to really talk about what had happened. Because talking about it would be admitting it happened, which in turn would mean admitting to the fact that something else far worse was going to happen, after all – Dean had survived the initiation.

Dean stared straight ahead, hand resting lightly around his wound. He felt empty, felt like something was missing and he hoped to God that it wasn't his humanity. But still this little thing niggled him telling him that he'd lost something and he had to find it because if he didn't… he just had to find it.

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	16. Temptation

.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.

I really enjoyed writing the first half of this chapter. Maybe I'm just a little twisted. It's a little shorter than the last because I was wanting to get it up today – the 24th of January just so I could say 'Happy Birthday' to Dean Winchester. I mean – it's his birthday! Yey! So he's what, 28? Not much age difference…

Anyway – quick reminder: supernatural no pertenece a mí _(supernatural does not belong to me) – done using an online translator because I'm lazy_

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16. Temptation

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Finally another motel came into sight and it was right next to a diner. Just what they needed, some proper food and a reasonably comfortable bed. The scenery wasn't much and there weren't many girls about but it would be a nice place to just relax.

"You stay here." Sam stated, "I'll get the room."

Dean rolled his eyes, he was being talked to like a kid by his _younger_ brother.

"Yes sir!" he replied and even added a mock salute.

Sam rolled his eyes this time before stalking away.

Dean grumbled, his guts hurt just enough to make him wince at every bump and pothole that Sam had driven over. If Dean didn't know any better, he'd have sworn Sam had done it deliberately. But instead he muttered a curse under his breath and leant forward in his seat. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, he sighed. He'd think of a way to get Sam back.

That's when Dean's heart leapt. Lying on the floor in front of him was a bloody knife. He stared at it, the blood added to the beauty of the blade, his blood. He decided somewhere in the back of his mind that a knife like that was meant to be decorated with blood. But fresh crimson blood would suit its shine more than the browning blood that clung to it now.

The knife, his knife, beckoned to him. He smiled at it, was this what had made him feel so hollow? He bent lower, examining it with his eyes. So this was his prize. This was the gift he got for surviving. His hand moved towards it, he'd earned the right to hold this beauty, this magnificent piece of work, it was his.

"No!" He found himself saying, he snatched his hand away and closed his eyes. _No._ He repeated in his mind.

He sat there, with his eyes closed, repeating the same word over and over in his head for several minutes before he heard the gentle rapping on his window. He opened one eye and looked out at Sam, who was dangling the motel keys.

"Come on Sleeping Ugly, wouldn't you prefer to sleep in a bed?"

Dean opened his door, "Dude, I am so prettier than you."

"Whatever, get your arse in gear."

Dean smirked and snatched the keys off his brother, "Nah, I think I'll lie down. You can bring our stuff in. Doctors orders remember."

Sam snarled, yeah, doctor's orders when it suited Dean.

Luckily for Dean the keys came with a number. Number six. The bottom of the six had a line under it and Dean suspected that a similar set of keys would carry a line on the opposite side, to differentiate between the numbers six and nine. Not that it really mattered.

He wandered over to the room and unlocked the door, wanting to put as much distance between himself and that knife. A quick glance around the room, sizing everything up and looking at their nice pink and yellow wallpaper and then he claimed the bed closest to the door – he threw himself onto it fully clothed, not even bothering to take his boots off.

He didn't want to think. He forced himself to sing loudly in his head to drown out any unwanted thoughts; feelings or whatever might get dragged up if he allowed his mind to just sit idly. He was onto the second chorus of 'The Killing Moon' when Sam interrupted him.

"You hungry?" It was a question asked in a way that demanded you to answer yes because if you said no, it would lead to an argument about how you should be and even if you weren't you still had to eat something because you'd been asleep the past couple of days and all you'd had to eat was some lame pieces of hospital food… so..

"Suppose." Came Dean's muffled reply.

"Burger?"

"Think they have steak?" Dean asked, lifting his head because his imaginary argument had reminded him that he was actually quite hungry after his lack of food.

Sam smiled, showing how pleased he was that Dean had an appetite, "Yeah, maybe. You feel like dragging yourself over there and finding out?"

Dean shrugged, "Guess so if it's the only way I can get a decent meal."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The diner was quiet but crowded; thankfully there was a booth free for the two brothers. They quickly sat down before anyone else could decide they would prefer a big booth to themselves. The place was clean, which was surprising but good all the same.

"So what can I do for you?"

Dean and Sam both looked up and into the sparkling eyes of the young waitress. Her long and shiny hair was tied back out of her way. She had a pen behind her ear, though this was probably more for show as she held a pencil in one hand and a pad in the other.

Sam glanced at the menu, "Two steaks with the usual and I guess two beers?"

He directed the last part of his question at Dean, who nodded in agreement, "Yeah sounds good."

Dean watched her delicate fingers as they scribbled down the order and then watched as they moved up to her neck, and she went to chew the end of the pencil, it was as if she were inviting him to watch, to linger on her breasts. But he didn't, he didn't linger on her breasts, he lingered on her throat. Before he could even register what thoughts had come to his mind, Sam hit him over the head with a menu.

Dean tore his gaze away from her pretty, vulnerable neck and stared at Sam, "What was that for?"

Sam had a smirk plastered across his face and the pretty little waitress laughed, "Pass your menu over."

Dean threw his menu at Sam, silently hoping it gave him a paper cut or something and Sam passed the menu's neatly up to the waitress who blushed and wandered away. Dean rubbed the top of his head.

"I don't even wanna know what you were just thinking about." Sam said, a cocky smile on his face.

And Dean agreed. Dean didn't want to know what he'd just been thinking about but he felt guilty for whatever it was.

"You okay?"

"I'm always okay." Dean replied.

But he knew he wasn't and he looked out the window and over to the Impala.

After a couple minutes of unsuspicious silence, Dean decided to bring it up.

"You kept the knife." he said, it was a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah," Sam replied, "Didn't know why at first but now, well, I thought we could take it to Bobby's, he could have a look at it."

Dean had a look of seriousness on his face as he spoke, "Keep it safe, Sammy."

"Dean?" Sam questioned.

Dean stared right at him and repeated in a warning tone, "Keep it safe, Sammy."

And Sam knew by the look in his eyes what he really meant. Those unsaid words _'Hide it somewhere I can't find it, put it somewhere I can't use it.' _It made him feel uneasy and he couldn't hide the look of worry that found its way onto his face.

The request was easier said than done, there weren't many places to hide a knife, not where Dean couldn't find it. But Sam nodded.

When the waitress cam back over with the food, Dean didn't even look at her. Sam flashed her with a smile and she went away but Dean didn't even acknowledge her. This brought back Sam's worried expression and he couldn't help but wonder if it hadn't anything to do with Dean's request to keep the knife safe.

Dean's appetite had quickly left him but he forced the food down anyway, if only for the ever watchful gaze of Sam. He forced himself to drink the beer and he forced himself to stare only at whatever was inside the diner because if he looked outside, his eyes would long for the Impala, long for what was inside it. Sam didn't pry; he just ate quietly with a permanent look of worry plastered onto his face but Dean could live with that.

When they left the diner half an hour later, Dean felt no less empty or guilty. He didn't have the energy to throw himself on his bed; he just dropped and lay there on his stomach. He deliberately looked away from Sam, deliberately avoided his stare.

"Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I'm sleeping." Dean said.

"No you're not."

"Well, I will be if my annoying little brother even shuts up." Dean pulled the pillow over his head, trying to block out any more questions. Normally if he'd have done this his face would have felt the cold metal of his precautionary blade but tonight was different. He didn't trust himself with any type of blade.

_This is ridiculous. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm a good guy, I kill bad things and that's not gonna change. A bitch stabbed me with a knife, that doesn't change anything and neither does this mark on my frickin chest. I just need to sleep. I'll sleep this whole thing off and I'll be fine in the morning._

As he closed his eyes and let the darkness of sleep take him over, something stood out in the blackness – a pair of yellow eyes and Dean was almost certain he'd heard a laugh.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	17. Death

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

When I was writing this chapter I decided to get back to switching the POV's, so we have Sam POV, Dean POV and so on and so on – well, it wouldn't have worked any other way for this particular chapter. There's a certain line in this that I've kind of stolen from the Dark Angel episode 'Pollo Loco' but please don't sue me, it was put in because Ben said it and I kind of found it amusing how appropriate it was Dean. _(If you have no idea what I'm going on about just send me a message and I'll let you in on it.)_

Thank you for all your kind reviews so far and thank you for reading. It's encouraging. I can't believe how much I've wrote for this so far and I wouldn't have been able to do so without you all.

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**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

**17. Death**

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Sam felt extremely twitchy. He couldn't stop fidgeting as he watched his brother sleeping. Every time he looked at the laptop or at the journal he nearly cried out in frustration, he didn't have a clue what he was meant to be looking for. It was all too out of place, nothing made sense and when demons did something they usually had a plan, even if it was just to hurt someone. Is that all this was, to hurt the Winchesters, to hurt Dean?

Because although he never spoke about it, Sam could tell this whole thing was affecting Dean in more ways that just physical pain. They dealt with physical pain all the time and though sometimes it could be a bitch, the real bad stuff came with the psychological trauma. There had been a lot of things in their lives to dig deep into their minds, especially over the last year but they'd been dealing, Dean had been dealing. Now with this new load of baggage, Sam didn't know whether Dean could carry it – but he knew that Dean wasn't the type to let others carry his luggage, no matter how bad a shape he was in.

Dean shifted on the bed and Sam's eyes snapped over to him straight away. He grunted but then lay still and fell silent. Sam started breathing again, he hadn't even realised he'd stopped. Every time Dean moved it was the same, every time he made a sound. Sam's guts would sort of clench and he's stop whatever he was doing, including breathing, just to watch his brother and make sure he was okay.

_If this yellow eyed demon wants me, why's he doing this to Dean? _Sam's mind was racing, _Whatever this actually is. What the hell does he want?_

"No…" Sam looked towards his brother again; he'd barely even caught the muffled word that had escaped his brother's lips. Slowly he stood up and wandered over, his ears straining just in case Dean mumbled anything else. And just as slowly as he'd stood up, probably even slower, he lowered himself into a sitting position on Dean's bed.

"Hey Dean?" He whispered, knowing his brother was too far gone in dreamland to reply, "You okay?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean's head felt thick. Thick and heavy. He looked around. He was sure this was a dream but then, weren't you supposed to wake up as soon as you figured out that you were dreaming? Or you were given control, one of the two, neither of which happened for Dean.

"It's a nightmare." Dean grunted.

The darkness pressed in on his eyes and he felt something shift, something was out there in the darkness. Its eyes flashed momentarily.

"What the hell do you want?" Dean spoke with such venom, spitting the words out at the person hiding in the dark.

"You sure Daddy would approve of that language?" It mocked.

"He's the one I learned it off."

Silence was met by this remark, though Dean swore it was smirking.

"Aren't you supposed to be haunting Sammy's dreams? I mean, he's the one with the freaky deaky powers."

"Would you rather I torment your brother?"

Dean bit back his tongue. His answer was no. If it meant peace for Sam, he'd let this yellow-eyed demon bastard haunt his dreams for as long as the world turned and the Sun burned.

"You've been a bad boy Dean. I know what you thought about that waitress."

Dean's throat tightened but he wouldn't let the demon know, "She was smokin' hot. Wouldn't have minded a piece of that. Though a little too geek inclined for me, didn't know Sammy had it in him –"

"I know you were thinking about running that nice new dagger of yours across her throat, would it be the look of fear in her eyes or the fresh innocent blood pouring out that you'd prefer?"

"Shut up." Dean hissed.

"Ah, so a bit of both? Didn't know you were so greedy."

"What the hell do you want?" Dean repeated his earlier question, but with even more venom this time.

"Me? Nothing. I'm just a spectator this time, she's the one running the show."

That was the first time Dean became aware of the other presence in the darkness and he knew exactly who it was.

"What? The Death Markers got no other representatives? I mean, don't get me wrong, you've put a strong case together but not strong enough."

"Always the charmer." She touched his cheek and he withdrew, stepping to the side.

He felt her moving for his clenched fist and tried to move it away but he wasn't quick enough, she held it in place, prised it open. And then shining brightly and clean, she put the dagger in his hand. She closed his fingers around it. Dean tried to pull away from her, but she wasn't having it.

Her grip tightened around his hand, making his hand grip the dagger even tighter in return. He felt sick holding this dagger, its power almost overwhelming. It's blade far too clean for his liking and if he could just break free from her, he'd plunge it deep and maybe even turn it a little, make it more painful for her.

He breathed deeply and she lessened her grip, this was his chance, if he acted quickly enough. Oh, how he'd enjoy hearing her scream. He broke away from her and readied the knife, readied himself.

"You're a soldier, Dean Winchester, a hunter," She smiled, "A killer."

"No!" Dean dropped to the floor, gripping the knife so tightly he was sure he'd end up making himself bleed.

_That's sick._ Dean thought to himself. _She let me get away from her 'cause she knew what I was thinking, she knew what I would do. She wanted me to, just to prove her right._

"No." Dean said again, he looked up with defiance burning brightly in his eyes, "I won't kill for you and I won't use this."

Reluctantly he dropped the knife, letting it lie lamely on the floor in front of him

"Don't you understand why they want you, why they need you to just accept?"

"Honey, I don't even care."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean's fist tightened around the sheet beneath it and Sam looked on in worry.

"Dean, come on, it's okay." But after what he'd been going through, Sam wondered whether or not it really was okay.

Dean inhaled sharply, his breathing becoming irregular, forced. Sam leant over and checked his pulse, it was racing. Whatever nightmare he was having, it was particularly bad.

Dean moaned as if he was in discomfort, his fist momentarily slacking but tightening again quickly. He was sweating, Sam noticed, sweating like mad.

"Dean, come on. I need you to wake up." Sam slapped his brothers face lightly but to no affect, "Come on, I can't stand seeing you like this."

Whenever Sam had any nightmares, Dean had been there for him. When he was a kid, sometimes he'd wake up to find his brothers protective hold on him and though Dean was fast asleep Sam had felt safe. As they grew older, Dean would wake with Sam when he'd had a nightmare and he'd give his younger brother some hot cocoa or warmed milk to ease his racing mind. Sam always suspected that Dean had taught himself how to sleep lightly in case there was any trouble, whether it just was nightmares or actual demons. And he understood right now how painful it was for Dean to watch Sam have those nightmares.

Dean groaned and moved uneasily on the bed. Sam stood up, he didn't care if this wasn't as bad as it looked and he didn't care how Dean would react but he had to wake Dean up. He mad to make sure. He moved quickly, picking up a glass and going to fill it with freezing cold water that he could tip over his brother.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Stop fighting it." She taunted.

"Leave me alone!" Dean wanted to be cocky, wanted to be smug but more than that, he wanted to be left alone, needed to be away from her and her words.

"Do I have to take you to deaths door again?"

This question shocked him, taking away his needs, bringing back his cockiness, "Which one? Really didn't like the one back in Nebraska but Tessa, she was pretty for a reaper."

"So you've remembered about her then?" He didn't answer, so she spoke again, "Always joking about things aren't you?"

"Yeah well. Laughter cures all." Dean smirked, "But okay, serious question – if you and your friends want me so bad, why you wanting to kill me?"

"I never said kill you. No we don't want to kill you. I can't believe you haven't noticed."

"Noticed what?"

"That survival instinct of yours that comes out when you're so close to death, that killer inside you grows every time."

"That's a damn lie." Dean said simply and he refused to even think about it.

"But what makes you so special is that you're surrounded by death. You're marked by it. Oh honey, you are death."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	18. Wake Up Call

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Sorry about the wait for this, I seem to be taking longer and longer to write each chapter. But again, thank you for the reviews and for reading, really encouraging.

And once again, I've decided I need a little more physical violence. So hopefully the next chapter will have some of that. And yey – finally got to see 'In My Time Of Dying' on a real TV screen instead of a tiny little picture on my crap monitor.

Anyway – please enjoy…

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**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

**18. Wake up call**

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Armed with a glass of freezing cold water, Sam made one last attempt to wake his brother gently from whatever nightmare he was held in, shaking him, slapping his face and begging for him to 'please wake up'.

Dean whimpered. No, it couldn't have been a whimper because Dean Winchester never whimpers. _That's it._ Sam decided and chucked the water over his brother.

Dean made to sit up, his head nearly colliding with Sam's but the last piece of the nightmare died with his strong and angry words, "Just stay away from me. Leave me the HELL alone!"

"Dean, it's okay. It was only a dream." Sam held his brother firmly in place, just in case he hurt himself, "Settle down Dean."

Dean's expression bore resemblance to that of a rabbit caught in the glow from a set of headlights, startled and afraid and then his eyes fell on Sam, "Where's the knife?"

"What? Dean, why?"

"Sam, where's the knife? Is it safe?"

"It was just a dream Dean."

"Just humour me and go check it." Sam found Dean's expression hardening; he was hiding his emotions, building the walls back up, "I mean it, Sam!"

Sam decided it was best not to argue and left his brothers side; Dean burrowed his head in his hands. Picking up the keys to the Impala, Sam headed out of the room and towards the car, glancing backwards every now and then just in case.

Truth was, Sammy hadn't hid the knife yet. He hadn't bothered to put it somewhere safe; he had meant to but it just hadn't happened yet because, well, he had no where to hide it. So on the floor just in front of the passenger seat, Sam spotted the knife. It was fine. It was still there. He knelt down and picked it up, examining it, how could such a thing be affecting his brother.

With a heavy heart, Sam decided he couldn't leave it in the car and that meant the only other option was to take it with him into the motel room. If Dean saw him do that, God only knows how he would react. So Sam slid it neatly round his back, tucked between his flesh and the waistband of his jeans. He cringed; the blade was still bloody from the attack on Dean, dry but still bloody.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean lifted his head as his brother came back into the room, "Well?"

"It was fine."

"Right." That was all Dean could say, anything else would just lead to trouble.

"Why were you so worried?" Sam looked on with those puppy eyes and Dean turned away.

"It's nothing. Just a dream like you said."

"Pretty wild dream. What was it about?"

"I don't remember…" Flat out lie and the pair of them knew it.

"Yeah, and a pig just flew past the window."

"Was it an evil pig? 'Cause if it was an evil pig then I think we've got our next – "

"Dean, shut up about evil pigs and tell me what happened in your freakin' dream!"

"I swear, it was nothing."

"Right, and that's why you woke up practically shouting for someone to stay away from you and leave you alone?"

"Yeah well, that Fabric Softener Teddy Bear – the bitch is evil, haunts my dreams."

"Dean, I'm serious."

"So am I, I just wanna blow the little suckers er… fluff out." Dean smiled though it didn't reach his eyes. He felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving his brother.

"If you don't tell me what happened, I'll tell you where the knife is."

Dean could only stare at his brother - that was way below the belt. He thought Sam had understood him when he'd told him to keep that thing safe, surely he wouldn't, not if he knew how much it would kill Dean inside.

"I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I guess I'm just tired. And I'm sick of always trying to pry the truth from you." Sam sat down on his bed and looked at the floor, "I'm sorry."

"Do you think it's possible for a normal person to…" Dean started, out of a moment's pity for his brother but he found he couldn't finish his question, it hurt too much and he didn't want to know the answer, just in case it was the one he didn't want to hear.

Sam lifted his head, surprised at Dean's momentary falling of walls, "For a normal person to what?"

"Become…" Dean choked; he couldn't look his brother in the face, "To become – Death?"

"What?" Sam was completely perplexed and shaken.

"It's what she said. She said I was Death. But that's not possible, right?"

"No, it isn't." Sam said, though he didn't know if his words were true because when you were a Winchester, it seemed anything bad was possible.

"So she was just talking figuratively?" No matter what the true answer was, Dean just needed Sam to agree, no matter if it meant Sam had lied to him he just need Sam to say –

"Yeah, of course man. What else could she have meant? Death is… well it's death and you can't just become it."

"How about reapers?"

"No… You can't just become a reaper, Dean, that's dumb even for you to say."

Dean laughed, but once again, it didn't reach his eyes. Those hazel-green eyes filled with worry.

Sam sighed for what he felt was the hundredth time that day; he looked at his brother who had fallen quiet. "Well, I know you probably won't want to sleep but I can't keep my eyes open and I could do with the rest so I'm going to bed."

Dean nodded loosely, "Yeah, you should do. I might see if we haven't anything that'll knock me into dreamless sleep."

Dean watched as Sam turned, slowly getting ready for bed and lifting his shirt off. He wasn't checking Sam out or anything, he was just wondering what was going through his younger brother's mind. And then just ever so slightly Dean caught a glimpse of temptation as he saw the knife pressing against his brothers back.

He tried to look away from the blade but the urge to get up and grab it and even that deep appeal he had to coat it in fresh blood was overwhelming. Sam was completely oblivious; he'd obviously put it there and forgotten all about it after learning about Dean's new fears. Dean bit his lip, Sam dropped his jeans and the knife fell to the floor and bounced, it bounced just into his reach.

Sam spun around and searched the floor. How could he be so stupid? How could he forget about the knife? Panic ran through him and he froze. Dean had leant over and picked up the knife and for the briefest moment, Sam didn't recognise his brother's eyes – an emotion hidden within them surfacing. Bloodlust.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	19. Brotherly Love, Brotherly Hate

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Argh! I can't seem to concentrate on one story at a time. I've got a bunch of evil plot bunnies attacking me and each one seems to revolve around Dean – his character is not safe in my mind. But I am determined to get this and Lycanthrope finished - or at least get them to an acceptable ending point because this one is looking like a sequel may be happening – before I start writing any other stories.

I wanna apologise for the longer than normal wait – it was a lot harder doing this to Dean than I ever thought possible, I feel like I'm betraying him slightly with this chapter but here we go… Erm, also, I'm really really sorry because this is probably my shortest chapter yet and it's also probably the longest you've had to wait for – so sorry! But here we go!

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**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

**19. Brotherly Love, Brotherly Hate**

**.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.**

Sensing the change in the air, Sam decided it was best to be prepared and gently tugged his jeans back up, fastening them. "Dean?" He asked tentatively.

Dean didn't answer; he was just staring at the knife in his hands, eyes still consumed by bloodlust.

"Dean, you wanna give me the knife?"

Dean smiled and Sam's blood ran cold, he had never seen Dean smile like that, not even on hunts. It was cold, bloodthirsty, filled with malice and danger or in just one word – evil.

"You afraid I'll do something, Sammy?"

"Actually, yeah, I'm getting there."

Dean rolled the knife in his hands, watching it. "You wanna try and make me give you the knife?"

"Dean, I really don't want to fight you – not when you're like this." _Whatever this is._ Sam thought.

"Then you better stay out of my way."

And Dean stood up, still playing with the knife in his hands. He frowned for a second and wiped it on his shirt, the dried blood flaked off too easily for the blade to be normal. "There we go – a clean slate. Now, personally I thought that pretty little waitress's blood would look nice all over this but you know how I like a challenge and I bet you'd be much more of a challenge than a scared little bitch."

"Dean, come on, this isn't you. This isn't you talking."

Dean pointed the knife at Sam, "You know, I finally figured it out. Why he's involved, old yellow eyes that is. He wants me out the way, wants me gone so he can get to you. Well, I'm gonna be a good big brother, I'm gonna send you to a place where he can't get to you."

As crazy as Dean might have been acting, Sam had to agree that he made sense about why the demon might be involved, "Dean, just calm down. Please."

"I am calm." Dean smiled, lowering the knife and walking towards Sam, "And I'm gonna slit your throat."

Sam stumbled backwards slightly, "This isn't you. Dean, no."

"I'm not possessed; this is me, who I'm meant to be. This is who they want me to be." He cocked his head to the side questioningly, "Or is Sammy the only one allowed to have a dark destiny?"

"This isn't about me – " Sam started, he was greeted by a flash of anger in the blood lusting eyes as Dean interrupted him.

"Funny, 'cause that's who it's usually about. Selfish little Sammy who cares about no one but himself. He even has the cheek to ask his big brother to give up his life and kill him, just so Sammy doesn't have to turn bad, just so Sammy doesn't have to live with the torment of killing innocent people. No instead, he'd rather lay it on his big brothers shoulders, he'd rather his big brother suffer the torment of knowing that he'd killed his kid brother. Well, if that's what you want so badly Sammy boy, that's what I'm gonna give you."

Sam was so gob smacked by Dean's rant that he never saw him coming. He didn't have time to defend himself or prepare as Dean pushed Sam hard into the wall and trapped him there, knife to his throat and one hand locked around one of Sam's wrist, also pinned against the wall. Sam's free hand seemed to fall on something that was leaning against the wall. He recognised that touch; he didn't remember putting it there. Had Dean done that when he'd been Dean? When he'd been his protective big brother?

"Dean…" Sam tried once more; the movements making his skin touch the blade.

Dean pressed the knife further and Sam closed his eyes briefly, tensing up, reaching and moving as little as possible to avoid suspicion, "Make up your mind! Which is it? You want me to kill you? You want me to let you live? Decision time Sammy, fifty fifty, phone a friend, ask the freakin' audience 'cause I am running out of patience."

Blood teased its way through the shallow cut and spilled onto the blade, ran down gently down his neck.

"I'm sorry Dean." Sam said.

Dean looked on in puzzlement, "That's not an – "

He had been going to say 'that's not an answer' but he never got a chance to finish as he went flying across the room with a similar pain filling his abdomen. The knife had fallen from his hands and he landed in a lump between the two beds.

Sam looked down at his hand, the familiar object felt wrong and painful memories made their way back into his mind. The asylum, Dr. Ellicott, that goddamn shotgun that he'd shot his brother with, loaded with rock salt. This goddamn shotgun that he now held in his hands, that he'd just used to shoot his brother again. Loaded with rock salt of course. He wouldn't have shot Dean if he'd thought it had been anything different but he knew that for some reason, Dean always liked to keep this particular shotgun loaded with rock salt.

"Oh man, Dean, I am so sorry!" Sam blurted out, dropping the gun instantly and rushing over to his brother.

Dean was completely out of it, he hadn't even opened his eyes. His face was contorted with pain. This was worse than the last time. Dean's arms hugged his stomach and Sam knelt down.

"Dean, don't be such a baby, it was just rock salt."

But then Sam saw the blood. Blood was seeping through Dean's shirts. Sam pulled Dean's arms away and stared in horror at the wound in front of him.

Dean opened one eye and looked up at his little brother. He saw and felt Sam push down a motel sheet on his stomach, mumbling incoherently as he did so. "Sammy?"

Sam's eyes shot towards Dean's, it was his Dean, his protective older brother who stared back, "I'm so sorry Dean, I didn't think. I forgot all about it."

Dean took a deep breath, though for the pain it caused him, he wished he hadn't, "Sammy, I almost killed you. I held a knife to you throat."

Sam stood up quickly, his eyes scanning the room. "I need to get you to a hospital. That impact – it's reopened your stab wound."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	20. Time

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Thank you all so much for your kind and brilliant reviews! As we've reached chapter 20, I'm gonna do a quick recap since the last recap was at chapter 15 (you don't have to read this bit):

_After what they thought was a routine hunt, Dean became branded by the Death Markers. Problem is, there isn't enough information about this strange society and they have no idea what it is exactly that they want with Dean. After one of Sam's visions of Dean being stabbed comes true, the brothers move off to the next town._

_Now it seems that the 'gift' the society left for Dean gives Dean urges he never knew existed inside of him and after a truly horrifying nightmare, the brothers were placed in a more than slightly awkward predicament – in other words, Dean gave into temptation and attempted to kill his brother…_

…_but Sam shot Dean with a shotgun loaded with rock salt, only problem now is that it seems to have reopened Deans wound and he's in pretty bad shape._

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20. Time

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Time became a blur, speeding past at some points and coming to a near stand still at others. But that didn't matter. Dean refused to admit how much he was hurting and how much of a struggle it was for him to stay conscious. Whether it took minutes or hours, neither brother knew nor cared, but they made it to the car. Dean was bundled up on the back seat, pressing the already blood soaked sheet to his stomach whilst Sam went to ask for directions to the nearest hospital.

Dean sang as he lay there, just to keep himself awake, painful coughing occasionally interrupting his steady tune. It would be so easy to just fall into that darkness that beckoned him, so easy to just go to sleep and never wake up. He didn't want to deal with all this new pain. He'd almost killed his brother – he would have too if Sam hadn't fired that gun. _Oh, thank God Sammy fired, thank god_. Dean thought to himself.

The guy was only gone three minutes max to print out the directions to the hospital but to Sam, it felt like three hours, it was just far too long considering his brother was bleeding all over in the back of the car. When he finally came back with the sheets, Sam practically snatched them out his hands, quickly saying thank you before running back out to the car and starting it up. Sam hadn't even heard the guy ask what had happened to his neck.

"Okay Dean, I know you're probably really tired right now but I need you to do a favour for me." Sam said, as he pulled out.

"What you want?" Dean muttered.

"I need you to stay awake. Talk to me, so I know you're awake. Okay?"

"How can you be so calm? I nearly killed you."

"Well, I just shot you so we're even."

"Yeah but rock salt ain't gonna kill me."

"Tell that to you reopened gut."

"I have but it ain't listening." Dean joked, but it was only half hearted. The pain was too much for him to even attempt to laugh.

"Look, Dean, we'll figure this out. There has to be a reason it happened. You're a good guy."

"Nah, Bobby was right. They don't go after good guys. They…" But Dean had stopped.

"Dean?" Sam waited for a reply.

There was none.

"Dean!" Sam repeated, glancing in the mirror.

Still nothing.

"For Gods sake Dean!" Sam shouted, reaching back with his free hand to shake Dean.

He heard a grumble and a moan.

"Dude, I just wanna sleep."

"Dean, you cannot sleep. Stay with me, I can't be driving and worrying about your sorry ass at the same time. So come on, talk to me."

"What's there to say? All I keep thinking is how I almost killed my little brother – who I swore to protect."

"That wasn't you. There was something wrong, some magic or something, I dunno but it wasn't you."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you."

Sam was speeding. He was well past the limit and he didn't care, if there were any cops about, he'd race them to the hospital. In fact, he might even get there faster if he had a cop car chasing him. But there were no cops, there were no other cars about, this meant no weaving about in the traffic, this meant he could just keep driving straight, taking turns where he needed to, not where he was forced to.

"Those things I said…" Dean started; he didn't want to finish, "Sam, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah well, some of those things were kinda true."

"Huh? Like what?"

"Like what you said about the yellow eyed demon."

"What about him?"

"He knows that there's no chance he can have me whilst you're around. You said so yourself, as long as you're around, nothing bad's gonna happen to me."

"Yeah well, that was stupid. Loads of bad stuff has happened to you."

"Oh yeah, name three things." Sam said this mainly just to keep his brother awake, keep him talking. Somewhere, down inside, this mini revelation about the demon wanting Dean out the way made him feel a small amount of hope that whilst Dean was around; Sam wasn't going to turn evil because Dean just wouldn't let him.

"You broke your arm, got possessed by Meg and oh yeah, I nearly killed you!"

Sam remained silent, he knew Dean would easily come up with a list because Dean was the big brother and for some reason felt it was his job to prevent anything from hurting Sam, he just didn't expect him to come up with the list of three as quickly as he did. Dean had some serious guilt on his shoulders that shouldn't even be there, but Sam didn't know what to say to make it go away.

"Dean, those weren't your fault." He'd try anyway.

"Whatever." Dean coughed out painfully.

The car went silent. There was still too much distance to go to get to that hospital and Sam was running out of patience. He had to keep Dean talking though, but not about all this, not about his guilt and any other hidden emotions.

"Hey Dean, you remember you taught me how to ride my bike."

"Yeah, Dad got real pissed - told me I shouldn't have taken your training wheels off so early."

"But I'd had those damn things on for ages."

"Dad didn't want you to get hurt when he wasn't there to catch you." Dean said.

"But you were there." Sam replied quietly, "Always have been."

"You should have seen him smiling when you rode that bike all by yourself with no help, he was so proud of you." Dean said.

"I bet he was proud of you too. Not everyone has the patience to teach someone how to ride a bike."

"Teaching you how… to ride the bike was easy compared… to half the other stuff you put me through." _Oh God, _Dean thought, _It shouldn't be this hard to breath._

"Dean, you still okay back there?"

"M'always okay." He moaned.

Time meant nothing to the brothers, it was just another thing that existed in the chaotic world. So whether it was half an hour after the incident or 6 hours, Sam didn't care, he just pulled up outside the hospital and shouted as loudly as possible for someone to come and grab his brother. As asmall group of doctors and nurses rolled Dean away, time did its amazing thing of speeding up and slowing down at exactly the same time.

Sam tried to get to Dean, tried to follow, but the old and sympathetic nurse who held his exhausted body back didn't allow it. She dragged him off into a quieter place, after all, Dean wasn't the only one with blood on him and someone had to explain just what was going on.

So time seemed to just stop.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	21. Stalling

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Please don't kill me! I'm really sorry for the long wait. I say that every time but I truly am sorry. Seriously, my work has been giving me more hours than normal and I seem to have no time for anything. But here we go… I had to try and get this up because I love writing this story.

This chapter took a surprising twist that I hadn't planned on but I hope it works and I hope you enjoy.

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21. Stalling

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"Okay, look at me honey; let me see your face." The old nurse said, dragging his chin so their eyes met, "Now tell me, what's your name?"

"Sam. My name's Sam." His voice was shaky and his eyes darted back to the doors.

"Right then Sam, what's your friend's name?" Her voice was calm and soothing.

"Dean. He's my brother. You got to let me go with him." He pleaded.

_His vision was blurring, he tried to focus on what was happening but all he could see was the ceiling. Every time he turned his head to the sides he felt like throwing up, a wave of unpleasant nausea. The lights were blinding him, forcing him to close his eyes against their harshness._

"Honey, you've got to let the doctors do their job. You'll only get in the way."

"No, I've got to be with him. I should never have let this happen. He needs me."

"Sit still and let me see your neck. Did you even know you're bleeding? What have you boys been up to?"

"It was a fight, we got into a fight." He replied numbly.

"And he tried to slit your throat?" She asked incredulously, now tending to Sam's wound.

"No, not him. He didn't! He's my big brother. It was something else."

"Something?"

_He blinked his eyes open again, he couldn't fall asleep. His Sammy had told him not to fall asleep. He couldn't let Sam down. Where was Sam anyway? The only people he could see were blurred and unfamiliar. He tried to speak Sam's name, tried to call for him. That's when he realised just how difficult it was for him to breath._

"Someone else. They attacked us. My brother, his wound, it reopened. I should have realised, I should have remembered. He was only just healing. He should have been resting."

"The doctors will be doing all they can, right now you need to relax and calm down. You're doing yourself no favours."

"I just wanna make sure he's alright. I need him." He started rising.

"Sit down!" The nurse pushed him back onto his seat, "If you go rushing in you can make things worse."

_He felt the slightest tingle in his arm; he thought he saw the thin flash of metal. He was fading. He felt incredibly tired and all he wanted to do was sleep. The darkness called to him. He closed his eyes and he heard the doctor murmuring something about him being a good boy._

"How long do I have to wait before I find out how he'd doing?" His eyes automatically glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Just long enough for them to stabilise him." The nurse's voice broke and Sam looked at her as she put the first aid kit away.

Her hands were shaking.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine, honey." She turned and smiled at him, "You've just got to wait here and you're brother will be fine."

"Maybe I should go and find a doctor."

"If you go barging in there and they're in the middle or re-stitching his guts, you'll probably get thrown out the hospital."

"_Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Dean barely heard the voice calling down the hall, he didn't have the energy to open his eyes and check. The people around him seemed oblivious to the shout, perhaps they weren't talking to them or perhaps he'd imagined it._

He narrowed his eyes and she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Christo." He spoke loudly and clearly.

She flinched and gritted her teeth before speaking in a warning tone, "Sam…"

But he didn't listen; he was out the room as soon as he'd seen her flinch. If he was in there with a demon intent on keeping him away from Dean, what was happening to his big brother?

"_Hey!" The voice called out again, "You can't do that!" _

"_Shut him up before he starts a commotion." That was the same voice who told Dean he was a good boy. What was happening? Who were these people?_

_Dean tried to open his eyes, tried to open his mouth to talk but his whole body felt tired and unresponsive. He felt a hand on his face and the same voice told him it was okay and that he should rest. He wanted to argue but sleep overpowered him and the darkness blocked all his senses._

Sam raced down the corridor in the direction he'd seen Dean taken away in. People stared at him, a doctor or two tried to grab him but nothing would stop him. His eyes searched frantically and his voice called out. There was no reply.

It wasn't until he stumbled over something laying on the floor that he came to a halt. He felt hard to the floor and looked back. It was a body, and what a bloody mess it was. By the look of the uniform it was a security guard or something. Sam didn't have time for this, he had to find Dean. He got to his feet and continued down the corridor, he nearly ran past the half opened door. It was a fire exit.

He stepped outside tentatively and nearly screamed as he saw the large black van pull away, catching a glimpse of black eyes from the driver.

"Dean!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	22. Freud’s Theory

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Again, another long wait and I'm sorry!

As I was writing this chapter, I suddenly realised something – this whole time I don't think I've given that evil woman from the school a name, I'm gonna have to reread through all the chapters just to check but finally, she gets a name.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

22. Freud's Theory

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

That familiar sickly taste was in Dean's mouth again. How long had he been asleep this time? Where was he anyway? His eyelids were too heavy for him to open, so he listened. It was quiet. There weren't even any beeping noises like the last time. The last time? What last time? Man his mind was fuzzy, all over the place. Oh yeah, that was it, Sam had drove him to the hospital because his wound has reopened. That had been the last time, when he'd first had the wound fixed up.

So where were the beeping noises? Where was Sam? He moaned, trying to gain attention from anyone who might be in the room, he wanted answers but no one replied. No one appeared to be there with him. He concentrated on opening his eyes, forcing the sleep away.

This wasn't a hospital room. Dean couldn't tell what it was but it certainly wasn't a hospital room, at least it didn't look or smell like a hospital room. There was the bed that he was lying on, a sink in the far corner and what looked like it could possibly be a wardrobe. Everything was an unclean off-white colour, far too dirty to be a hospital room.

But it wouldn't matter where he was if nothing worked, so he carefully sat up and began testing his limbs, rolling his shoulders, flexing his muscles and stretching. Surprisingly there were no sore spots, no tender points that hurt as he moved his hand over to test for broken parts or bruises. The biggest surprise however came when he lifted his shirt to inspect the stomach wound.

"Well, that's just not right…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He didn't want to stay and answer police questions, but what with the unconscious nurse in the office, the dead security guard, the missing hospital staff and a 'supposed' kidnap, there was no way out of it. Out of dumb luck, the officer who interviewed him was extremely kind and understanding and Sam told her as much information as he dared. Of course he left out the fact that he'd memorised the license plate on the van.

It wasn't until a couple of hours later that he got the chance to follow up on the van lead. He'd made several phone calls and had been unable to find anything truly useful, there weren't any vans matching his description and the license plate had somehow vanished from the system. He sighed, he hadn't wanted to do this but he now he had to, it would take another couple of hours before he managed to get into the system and it was another couple of hours that he was unsure he had because god knows what was happening to Dean. But he sat down in front of his laptop and began his hack. It would have been so much easier if that kind lady over the phone had been able to bring the information up.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Ahh, Dean." A voice echoed through the room, shaking Dean from his thoughts, "I see you're awake."

Dean's shirt fell back down and he looked up to see an unfamiliar man in the doorway, he just couldn't seem to bite back the sarcasm, "How observant of you."

The man just smiled so Dean carried on talking, time to ask about the thing that was usually first on his mind, the first name to normally pass his lips, "Where's Sam?"

The man shrugged his shoulders in a half assed kind of way, "I honestly don't know. Don't care much at the moment either. Maybe he's lying dead in your motel room from when you attacked him."

"What? No! He drove us to the hospital." Dean looked around, he was sure that's what had happened but then why was he here, where ever this was, "Where am I anyway, and who the hell are you?"

"I am your doctor and this is a psychiatric hospital."

Hold up, that was unexpected, even by Dean's standards, "You don't look like a doctor."

And that was true. The man had no white coat or medical equipment. He simply wore a pair of scruffy jeans and a faded shirt, "I'm not a normal doctor."

"Okay then 'Doc', mind telling me why I'm in the psych ward?"

"Best place for you and best place to do what we need to do."

Dean ignored the first part and concentrated on the second, "And what is it you need to do?"

"Just some simple mind stuff, get you to work for us more cooperatively."

"Death Markers?" Dean cursed.

"Clever boy, took you long enough."

"Yeah well, it ain't gonna happen so you might as well just let me go." Dean was amazed he hadn't already tried to escape.

"You're half way there already though, after all you did attack your brother."

He didn't dare breath, how did this guy know about what had happened? Dean remembered how the man had answered when Dean asked about Sam. He took a deep breath, not letting his mind linger. He instead concentrated on Sam being alive and most probably searching for his brother at this very moment.

"You'll have heard of Sigmund Freud, right?" The man spoke conversationally, "One of the greatest psychologists of all time, bit twisted sure but then again, so are you."

"What's your point?" Dean spat.

"You see, Freud believed that the human mind consisted of three things, the ego, the superego and the id. And it's the id that I find truly fascinating. It's your urges, your basic instincts, your need for survival and what not. It's a pretty nasty sucker, that devil on your shoulder. Your id in particular has some pretty nasty urges and it's need for survival is stronger than most others, pretty powerful and what we need to do is to give that id of yours more control. Basically, get rid of those pesky emotions like love and guilt, the one that come from your ego and superego."

"What?" Dean half shouted, half whispered, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"I mean, some of your emotions are pretty important, like your anger. Anger feeds it, oh and your lust for killing. Don't look so shocked, it's so clear that I'm surprised Sam hasn't ever sat down and talked to you about it – you enjoy the kill, maybe more than you enjoy the hunt."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

One hand still on the laptop, Sam's other hand reached over for his phone. He'd already tried Dean's phone earlier but found the frustration unbearable after he'd heard the ringtone and found the phone hidden amongst Dean's things. Now he was calling Bobby, things had gotten too far and there was only one person he trusted.

It didn't take long for the uncle like hunter to answer. "Sam?"

"Bobby, we've got trouble. Someone's taken Dean, don't know who, and don't know where though I can probably take a stab at the who part." There was no time for formalities, he need to explain and get something done about it.

"Slow down there. Dean's been taken? How?"

"From the hospital, there was an incident and Dean got hurt, oh God, I don't even know if he's ok."

"Sam, I need you to calm down and tell me everything you know."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I don't care what you say, I'm getting out of here and I'm taking my id and what have you with me." Dean pushed his covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Oh we have no complaints about that, but first we'd like to just try a few things." The man took a step towards Dean, "I'd rather not have to sedate you, but if you try and make things difficult I'll have no choice."

"You're not doing anything to me." Dean warned, watching the man's movements carefully.

The man looked over his shoulders, calling out as he did so, "Guess I owe you that money, he's a stubborn one."

"I told you that from the beginning. You should have just strapped him in to begin with instead of giving him a chance to do this." The icy cold voice sounded so familiar and as the woman that haunted Dean's nightmares entered the room, he let out an audible curse, "Go get the boys Bill. I'll keep my eye on him."

"If you insist. Watch him, Mary. He looks like he's about to try something."

'Doctor' Bill had been right. Dean had been about to try something. Something incredibly reckless as stupid but when he heard the woman's name, he stopped dead. His mind froze.

"M.. Mary?" He asked.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot, I never did introduce myself properly. Yes, my name is Mary. Suits me don't you think?"

"You look nothing like a Mary." He growled, "You don't deserve a name like that."

"Now that's kind of harsh, you're hurting my feelings Dean. Now, I happen to know that you know someone else called Mary and I also happen to know that if you make things anymore difficult, I'll be sending a certain someone to meet her very soon."

"Sam…" The name broke through his lips and all his worry came tumbling back, "What have you done to him?"

"We've done nothing. It's you that hurt you're brother and it's you that will continue to hurt him unless you do what we want."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam explained as much as he could to Bobby and Bobby listened intently. He told Bobby about the vision coming true, about getting out of time and the motel room and the knife and then the woman in the hospital, he told him where he was now and that he was looking up the license plate details as they spoke and Bobby told Sam he'd be there as soon as possible and that they would find and save Dean.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	23. Frustration

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

I'm trying for weekly updates for a while and I'm also trying to keep a chapter ahead in my writing but I have no idea how long that will last. Thank you for your patience and your kind reviews and I hope you enjoy the show.

The scientific stuff mentioned in this chapter about frontal lobes and stuff is something I picked up off a website and I hope I didn't mess that part up much but please don't shout at me if I made a mistake.

One minor alteration made at the end of this chapter, you probably won't notice it. Basically I just changed a 'her' to a 'him', that's why it's been reuploaded.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

23. Frustration

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

If the two thugs that attacked him hadn't had those black eyes that indicated possession, Dean was sure he would have been able to take them. But as it were, the thugs were strong and in his current state, he felt weak and slightly vulnerable. Doctor Bill walked over to him as the thugs restrained him and a needle was inserted into his arms. Dean didn't know what was in that thing but it was sure as hell working quickly and his world was beginning to fuzz over already but not completely.

He felt himself being dragged out of the room and out into the corridor, it was the same off-white colour as his room, which was about the only detail he could make out before his world became momentarily dark.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It took Sam two hours to finally pull up some information about that van and its registration plate. It was registered to a Dr William Foreman who had apparently been under investigation over the last few years for supposed illegal experiments and he would have lost his license had the authorities been able to prove anything.

Sam kept on reading thought the doctors record, though he wished he stopped at the name. This guy was beginning to sound far too much like Dr Ellicott, what with electric shock therapy and all that other cringe worthy stuff. If this guy had something to do with Deans kidnapping, Sam would bet that all the rumours about him were true and if it came down to that, what the hell was happening to Dean?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Dean's world became light again, he was being strapped into a chair. Whoever was doing the straps were making sure that they were far tighter than they needed to be, just in case. His head was strapped back as well and into place, probably to stop it lolling about like it wanted to.

He blinked and tried to clear his vision, his tried talking but his voice came out slurred, making him sound like he'd had one too many, "So what? You're gonna brain wash me?"

"I've already explained." Came the crisp voice of the doctor, "We're just going to get rid of those pesky emotions. The rest is just who you are, what you are and what you're meant to be."

"I'm not evil." Dean slurred, "I won't kill innocent people."

"No one is innocent in this world."

Dean could hear laughing from nearby and he saw Mary walk into his line of vision, her icy cold laughter echoing around the room and chilling the air. Considering he was tied to chair and about to undergo some weirdo experiment, Dean couldn't see what was so damn funny. Apparently though, neither could the doctor who looked over at her impatiently.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam continued clicking until he found something he could use – 108 Oak Drive, that was this guy's home address. He glanced at this phone wondering whether he should let Bobby know, sure the old family friend said he'd get there as soon as possible but Sam had no clue where he was or how long it would take him to arrive and by then, it could be too late for Dean.

He bit his lip in frustration and cursed, standing up and sliding his phone into his pocket. He then placed a gun round his back, tucked between his jeans and his shorts. There was no time for waiting, he'd just check it out, see if there were any signs, and he wouldn't do anything reckless, not unless he saw something.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"What's the problem?"

"You really think that's gonna work on _him_? Sure, on other people and I guess it'll help but it won't do much. It's not so much what's in here…" And she tapped her head as she said 'here', "…because in there he's already a cold blooded killer. The problem with our friend is what's in here…" She tapped her chest this time on the word 'here'.

"You're far too sentimental Mary, emotions are all about the brain and chemical influences."

"Look, when he eventually escapes, which he will because that's what he does, we need him to be ready and if this gets screwed up, it's as much on my head as it is on yours, so when you're done playing your little mind games with him, let me know so I can get down to the real thing."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam pulled up over the road from the lonely house that had the numbers 108 displayed next to its front door. It was getting dark and most the other houses had lights on inside but this one seemed to be empty; there was no car let alone van parked in the driveway and there were no silhouettes walking past the windows.

After glancing around the quiet neighbourhood a few times, Sam decided to check the inside of the house at. He knocked at the front door first, tried the handle when he got no reply only to find it locked, which is what he expected. So he made his way round back where he would be more hidden and discreetly opened the back door and started his search of the house.

The rooms were ordinary and plain, in fact they were downright boring and there weren't even any pictures on display. There was nothing there; it looked as if the house had been abandoned for weeks. It wasn't until he got upstairs and reached the study that he found anything of use, another clue as to where Dean may be. There was a small computer and a printer; next to the printer were several smart and rather formal pieces of paper with a letterhead. The letterhead had the name of some hospital on it and thankfully, it also had an address.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean was feeling far too groggy to see exactly what was happening to him but he'd seen plenty of movies that had a machine in that looked very similar to the one in front of him. It was directly in front of him, a light from it blinding his left eye but there was another light of a different colour that flashed into his right eye at what seemed like a random pattern.

"It's the frontal lobe that deals with your emotions, did you know that Dean?" Doctor Bill was talking to him somewhere off in the distance but Dean just couldn't focus, "Those positive emotions that we talked about earlier, it's the left side that deals with most of them but you don't need to worry about that."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Bobby?" Sam didn't even give the guy a chance to say hello as he answered his phone, Sam just dove straight in as soon as he heard him answer, "I've think Dean is in serious trouble."

Sam was driving back to his room now with the crumpled up letterhead in his pocket. He had to find out how to get to that hospital and quick. Sure, he was probably jumping to conclusions about Dean being there but he had to try.

"Sam, I'm about five hours away. I know you're stressed and worried as hell but don't do anything until I get there okay?" Bobby wasn't even going to ask what Sam meant by serious trouble because no one kidnapped a Winchester to have a playmate for tea parties.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Funny, Dean thought, he didn't remember passing out so how come he was just waking up? Everything was a blur, a big blinding blur and whatever had happened during that blur made him feel sick. He heard voices a little way off and he opened his eyes to look around. He was back in that room on the bed again and the voices were coming from the corridor. He groaned, his head was throbbing like mad.

"What the hell have they done to me?" Dean asked himself as he tried to sit up.

On failing to sit up, he decided to just lay there and try to hear the conversation from behind the closed door, one of the voices sounded like the doctors and the other one was clearly Mary's.

"So you haven't damaged him then?" She asked.

"He's fine, a little out of it and I'll be surprised if he wakes up anytime soon but if you ask me, if was a success."

"And you know this even though he hasn't woken and you haven't seen the effects its had on him?"

"I know this because I'm a professional."

"You're used to dealing with humans Bill, when it comes to _him_, well, he's on a whole different level."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that it hasn't worked, so will you let me pass so I can get to work?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam was beyond impatient and by the time Bobby arrived they couldn't be gone soon enough. He'd pulled up directions to the hospital and a little history too. It was a psychiatric hospital and according to some sources it was one hell of a loony bin, Sam felt particularly bitter about the part where most of it's patients were of the criminally insane variety and Dr Foreman had been the guy in charge of the whole place, therefore it was shut down around about the same he was being investigated.

"Why keep letterheads for a place shut down ages ago?" Sam questioned as Bobby drove.

"Maybe he was planning on reopening the place or he kept it running kind of, just under wraps."

"You know, there are all kinds of rumours about brainwashing and things like that…"

"Sam, you've got to calm down and just focus on finding Dean and getting him back."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean felt like he should pretend to be asleep or something when she came through the door, but it just took far too much effort and by the way she looked at him it seemed she guessed he'd be awake.

"Have a good sleep there?" She mocked.

"You're a bitch, you know that right?" Dean croaked out, he hadn't realised how dry his throat was until then.

"Flattery will get you everywhere Dean." She smiled and stood next to his bed. He just couldn't find the energy to move, he could barely find the energy to talk or even think.

"Just get it over with, whatever the hell you're planning on doing now."

"Well that's no fun if your just gonna give in." He saw her pout and rolled eyes.

"As much as I'd like to play your games I'd rather you get the hell on with it or just leave me alone."

"Hmmm, maybe that thing they did had some affect on your after all, still I can't take the risk." She shrugged her shoulders and placed her hand over his heart, he flinched at her touch.

"Now this is gonna hurt like hell." If it was one thing she was good at, it was making statements like true. He looked down and her hand, it looked like it had been engulfed in a thick black smoke and as the smoke seemed to move into his chest, he screamed out in agony because it really did hurt like hell. It hurt so much that he felt the darkness taking him back under, he barely heard the voice from the doorway calling to Mary.

"There's a black car just pulled up out the front, looks like a classic."

And before the darkness completely took hold he felt her breath in his ear as she whispered, "When you get him back, kill them both."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	24. Voices

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Okay, so it's been over a week. But not by too much so please forgive me. Here we go – chapter 24.

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

24. Voices

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The first thing either hunter noticed as they pulled up was that the 'abandoned' hospital was far from that. Lights shone through the windows as if no one cared who knew someone was home.

Bobby pulled up behind Sam and opened his door, "Now Sam I know you're not Dean so I probably don't need to say this but we're not – " Bobby started but Sam had already slammed the trunk of the Impala closed and was storming towards the doors, a .45 hidden around his back and a sawed off shotgun in his hand. " – going charging in guns blazing. Damn it!"

Bobby pulled his gun from the front seat and chased after Sam, eventually meeting his stride. He muttered quietly to himself, "You Winchesters are all alike."

Sam burst through the doors and his eyes searched frantically for the nearest person, this not being an easy task because there was only one person in sight.

"You!" he shouted at the small man who appeared to be a guard at what appeared to be the front desk. His shotgun was pointed at the man's chest, "Where the hell is my brother?"

The man spoke a few choice words, basically telling Sam to get lost in a not so polite way. Sam snarled and threw a punch with his free hand, just enough to give the guy whiplash but not enough to knock him out.

"You just broke my nose!" the man said, terror rising inside of him.

"Don't make me repeat the question." Sam growled. Bobby found himself watching in awe, Dean would be proud of him.

"U.. up one f..floor, he… he's up there. Don't know what room." He stammered, pointing to the doors behind the desk.

Sam hit the guy once more, this time with the gun, knocking him out cold. Without a second glance, Sam barged through the doors leading to the staircase and ran as fast as he could. He didn't even wait for Bobby, not that he need waiting for. When they reached the next floor it was surprisingly empty and quiet. But the silence was broken by a loud cry of pain hat echoed through the corridor to ring in their ears.

"Dean…" Sam whispered and once again broke into a run.

The cry had disappeared but the memory of it remained. Dean never cried out like that unless he was in serious pain. Sam rounded the door that the sound had some from and cautiously entered the room. His eyes fell on the limp form of Dean lying on the bed.

"Dean!" He couldn't help but let the word escape his lips. That one word, one name, meant so much to him and he wished to use it as much as possible. Dean didn't reply, didn't even move as Sam began checking his vitals.

"How's he looking?" Bobby asked, walking over to the brothers.

"He's alive and he's breathing but he'd not waking up."

"We'll get him back to the motel, see what we can do for him."

Ideally they should change motels, changes towns, states or even countries but wherever they went the group just seemed to always know where Dean was. They always seemed to get him. First the school, then the incident with the knife and now this. Not to mention the damned people were haunting his dreams.

They reached the room with no problem and laid Dean gently on his bed. He was paler than he should be and his breathing far too shallow. Bobby felt completely helpless about the whole situation but he could only imagine how Sam felt. He watched as Sam knelt next to the bed his brother was now in and hated knowing he could do nothing.

"Come on big bro." Sam begged.

Bobby sighed, taking a seat near the table. He rubbed his eyes and then frowned at Sam, "Why did you go to the hospital?"

Sam looked up, confusion all over his face.

"You know, you said Dean was kidnapped from the hospital. Why were you there?"

"I shot him." His eyes were full of guilt, "The wound reopened."

It took both Sam and Bobby a moment to realise the danger hidden behind these words and Sam clicked first.

"Oh God! The wound! What if it's infected?"

In mere seconds, Sam had pulled the covers off Dean and lifted his shirt to inspect the wound. He was shocked to find himself staring at a completely healed abdomen, only a wound like that should leave a mark, a thin scar at least. Dean's flesh didn't even look like it had ever come to any harm. Sam reached his hand out and touched the skin but drew back as he heard Dean groan, his eyes looked up to see Dean's slowly waking up.

"Dean?" Sam questioned.

"Are you trying to feel me up?" Dean replied and after trying to open both his eyes, he decided it took less effort to keep one eye closed and the other only half open.

Sam smiled and covered the flesh back up, putting it on the 'to talk about later' list which was gradually getting longer.

"How you feeling kid?" Bobby asked, now standing next to the bed.

Dean opened both his eyes to stare at Bobby, left speechless for more than one reason. The first, why was Bobby there? And the second, how _was_ he feeling? Well, he felt like crap. But it was never a barrel of laughs when you were kidnapped by nutcases. You'd expected to feel crap. Dean's brow furrowed as he remembered the bright light in his eyes and the doctors words.

"…_what we need to do is to give that id of yours more control. Basically, get rid of those pesky emotions…"_

So yeah, he felt like crap. But how did he actually feel emotionally. If he was truthful, he didn't know how he felt, except confused and violated.

"I dunno." He settled for, looking down, keeping his thoughts to himself and his eyes averted.

Sam bit his lip, "What did they do to you?"

Dean shook his in reply, "Can we leave it?"

"Dean, this is important. I know it's soon but the sooner the better."

"Why don't you just drop it for now?" Dean growled. His anger was rising, that was an emotion. But as the doctor's words hit him again, he tried to force it away because it was not one he wanted to feel.

"_I mean, some of your emotions are pretty important, like your anger…"_

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Please?"

Sam remained silent and sat down on the opposite bed, just watching Dean. He wanted to push but he knew all too well that if he did, he'd end up pushing Dean away.

"You know what, I'm gonna take a shower." Dean declared as he struggled against the headache threatening to overtake him and his shaking limbs that protested against holding his weight, "And I'd appreciate it if my peeping tom little brother backed off."

Sam had started standing as if to help Dean but when Dean had barked his last remark, he did as he was told and back off, and it pained him to watch his brother. But Dean was fine, he was going to be fine. He let out the breath he was holding when he saw the bathroom door close and looked at Bobby.

"What did they do to him?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean let the cold water wash over him, hoping it would cool the rising anger that just refused to settle. What was wrong with him? He shouldn't be angry, not with Sam. Sam had gotten him out of that place and he was only trying to help. His fist crashed against the wall and he ignored the fact his brother and Bobby may have heard, he hoped that if they had heard though, that they would ignore it too.

His hand slid down to his stomach, as did his eyes, running his fingers over the place where a scar should have been. After that gunshot it should have been a lot worse than a scar but there was nothing. It was perfectly fine. It had been when he'd woken up in that room. And that brought up the question of what the hell had they done to him beforehand?

"You can figure that out for yourself." A voice echoed through the bathroom and bounced around inside Dean's head, making his headache worse. He pulled the shower curtain aside a little, just poking his head out to check who was there.

No one. He shut his eyes tightly and went back to leaning forwards into the shower. Great, now he was hearing things. As if things couldn't get any worse. "Probably a side effect of the kind doctor's experiments." He whispered to himself.

"Either that, or your not alone." The voice echoed again.

Dean felt his heart clench, he preferred the side effect option because then he could just ignore it. "I'll go with the side effect thanks."

"Ouch. You really know how to hurt a guy's feelings."

He was having a conversation with a voice that had no body and he was even sure whether or not it was even real, oh yeah, and he was in the shower – naked. He was losing his mind, surely. "And you really know how to invade a guy's privacy."

He felt some move over the back of his neck and he involuntarily spun around to found himself staring at nothing but air. It didn't stop him clambering out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist though.

"Why so jumpy?"

"What are you?" Dean spat.

In reply to the question, a pain flared across his chest. It felt as if it was on fire. He looked down and saw the mark blacken. If dreams weren't enough, these guys were visiting him in the shower now?

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	25. Nex

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-. **

AHHHHH!!!! I am so sorry! I just haven't been able to get this chapter written because what I wrote originally just wasn't working. I can't even beg for your forgiveness for my late update by giving you a longer than normal chapter. But still, I hope this is tantalising and I also hope you forgive me and please – enjoy!

PS - Thansk to JayneFaire who gave me a suggested way of updating my story because for the past few days hasn't let me upload.

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25. Nex

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"So this is the knife?" Bobby asked, he studied the knife in his hands, "Kind of ornamental ain't it?"

Now that Sam got a good look at it without being afraid his brother would start questioning him, he had to agree. It was a work of art, every little detail was perfected but it was deadly too. Sam had come extremely close to finding out just how deadly it was and just how much pain it could cause and it scared him more than anything to think about that look in his brother's eyes, that bloodlust. It scared him on hunts but it scared him even more when Dean had him up against the wall, knife against his throat. "Didn't really think about it."

"We'll sort this out, Sam. Dean is strong. He'll fight this."

"And then what? There's all this evil out there and it's determined to get it's clutches on one of us. Since Dad died he's been on edge, even lately he's been dangerous but never like this." Sam sighed and looked over at the bathroom door, "I'm afraid for him. What if they've done something and it changes him? I don't want to lose my brother."

"Sam, look at me." Bobby demanded and Sam did as he was told, "We will figure this out. Dean is going to be fine. You are not going to lose him."

Sam had been about to reply but was cut off by a soft drawl that came from the now open bathroom door, "Touching."

"Dean? Was beginning to think you drowned." Bobby joked, though he didn't miss the look in Dean's eyes and after a glance to Sam he knew it wasn't a good sign.

"Playing with my toys?" Dean asked, watching Bobby put the knife down on the table, "You should probably hand it here before either of you get any ideas."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm fine." He smirked and started walking towards the table where Sam and Bobby sat.

Bobby stood up, moving into a position where Sam and the knife were blocked from view. It was something Dean himself would have done, had he not been the one acting so… strangely.

"You gotta tell me what they did to you so we can fix it." Bobby said, "We've been reading up on that doctor and he's a pretty dangerous man."

"He won't be when I'm finished with him." Dean's eyes glazed over, the thoughts of what he'd do to that pathetic little doctor running through his mind.

"Dean, please…" Sam stood up, stepping out from behind Bobby. He didn't want protecting from his own brother. If something was wrong with Dean, he'd face it head on.

"Oh shut up." Dean moaned, "What, you think putting puppy eyes and a sad voice on is gonna make me do what you want?"

"What did they do?" Bobby growled threateningly.

Dean shrugged, obviously not intimidated but still, what harm would it do to tell them? Have a little fun whilst he was at it? "Doc said he was getting rid of my emotions. The good ones anyway..." He didn't get to finish what he was saying because of the blinding flash of pain behind his eyes. He closed them tightly and his fingers gripped the bridge of his noise. He took a deep breath, trying to continue but he was struggling, couldn't keep his mind on track, "Said that… he, said… something about anger… and then…"

That was it. That was all they got because Dean stumbled backwards. Bobby reached out and barely managed to catch his arm before he fell, pulling him back up and moving him over to the bed, where he laid him down gently.

"What the hell was that?" Sam asked, tears stung his eyes.

"We will figure this out. Dean is going to be fine. You are not going to lose him." Bobby repeated.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Ten minutes earlier _

_"What are you?" _

_"That's kind of harsh. Surely a more polite question would be who instead of what? I should be offended." _

_Dean's eyes searched the room from top to bottom, left to right but he could see nothing and the burning pain inside his chest didn't exactly help things, "You can be offended all you want, I don't give a damn. Just leave me alone." _

_"Can't do that. Not really. We're going to become extremely well acquainted. So please allow me to introduce myself." The pain tightened again in Dean's chest, "I am Nex. I am Lord of Death and I am part of you. Always have been and always will be." _

_Dean couldn't breath, his vision was swimming and he could barely register the words that were being spoken to him. _

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his bed in the motel, his right hand handcuffed to the railing above his head and Sam and Bobby were sitting at the table.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	26. Truths

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

I have not forgotten this story! I shall not forget it because it is my first SPN fanfic creation and I am so sorry about taking so long with the updates. It's another short chapter but hopefully I can get stuck in and write a longer one for the next update.

Thank you for sticking with this story, not matter how slowly I'm updating!

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26. Truths

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"Urgh" Dean moaned, testing the handcuff and making it rattle. Sam and Bobby turned to stare at him but that's all they did do, stare. Dean stared back, eyes moving back and forth between the two.

"You gonna just sit there or you gonna explain why I'm cuffed to the freaking bed?" Dean rattled the handcuff even more now, proving his point that he wasn't happy about being restrained.

Sam made a move to stand but Bobby grabbed his arm, pulling him gently back into his seat. He whispered something that Dean couldn't quite catch and Sam nodded. Dean just watched them and now Bobby stood up and walked over to him.

"How you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm just peachy, you know, after waking up and finding I'm cuffed to my own bed. What the hell is going on?"

Bobby narrowed his eyes, "What's the last thing you remember?"

Dean opened his mouth in shock, about to state that he'd been in the shower but then he remembered the pain in his chest and the voice. Then there was an echo of memory that seemed more like a dream than anything else, he barely managed to grab onto it but when he did, he remembered bloodlust and anger and the look on his younger brother's face. Such a pain filled look.

"Oh God… what's happening to me?" He looked over at Sam who was now rising again and walking over.

"We're going to figure it out Dean." Sam spoke gently in the way that Sam always did in delicate situations, it was a Sam thing, "You just need to tell us everything you know."

"I don't…" Dean started but Bobby cut him off, staring him down.

"You mentioned something about getting rid of emotions, what was that about?"

"The Doc, he was rambling on about all sorts of things, he mentioned something about Freud and an ID or something. I don't know… I don't know what he did but it… I…" Dean looked away, his eyes searching for escape, he didn't know what the doctor had actually managed to do to him and he didn't want to admit to Bobby and his little brother just how painful it had been and how violated it had made him feel, still made him feel.

"Dean please, what did he actually do?"

"Frontal lobes…" Dean whispered, the memory of the words flowing over him, "Something about frontal lobes…"

"Right, that's a start, what else?" Sam pushed him on.

"I passed out. All I remember was this light, that's all." _It hurt enough without having to be awake during the actual procedure. _Dean thought.

Bobby walked back over the table, his mind trying to make sense of the madman words that were coming from Dean. This doctor had been some creep and had obviously hurt Dean more than he let on, "Anything else we need to know about? You see anyone besides that doctor?"

Dean's eyes filled with mixed emotions, two of which were clear, sadness and rage. He remembered one more person, her, that demonic bitch who dared call herself Mary. She'd been there. She'd said things to him and about him and she'd also done something to him but he couldn't quite remember that bit - that bit was faded and his mind refused to let him see.

"Yeah, that woman, the one who gutted me before."

"She do anything this time?"

"Yeah… but I don't know what. I swear, I'm trying to remember but I just can't. It's right there, like when you know the answer to a quiz question, it's on the tip of your tongue, you just can't quite get at it and spit it out." Dean made an attempt to sit up but pulled his cuffed hand in the process, he cringed in pain but continued talking anyway, "She said something though. She said…"

Noticing that his brother wasn't going to continue with what he was saying, Sam sat next to him on the bed and with eyes daring Dean to defy he demanded the truth, "What did she say?"

"Well it was more implied rather than said, she never actually said it but she sure as hell implied it and implications can be nearly…"

"Dean!" Sam warned.

"She said I wasn't human."

"What?"

"She kept referring to me as if I was something else and, oh God, I wish I couldn't just remember what she did. She didn't think that Doc's plan would work and she… it just goes blank… there was pain but that's all I remember."

"We're gonna need more than that for research." Bobby sighed.

Dean took a deep breath, "Look up 'Nex'."

"Next?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Not next, Nex. N. E. X. No T. Just Nex."

"What's a nex like?" Sam asked, though he moved from his position and headed for his laptop.

"If I knew that I wouldn't be asking you to research it." Dean moaned, not exactly wanting to say _'it's a voice inside my head that I'm pretty sure took over my body and made me want to kill you' _because somehow he just couldn't see Sam being comforted by that.

Dean just continued to sit on the bed, watching the other hunters, he coughed gently, clearing his throat. They didn't look. He coughed again, a little louder this time. They still didn't look. "You're just gonna leave me cuffed here aren't you?"

"At this moment in time? Yeah because you're unpredictable. There's something happening and you can't control it and until you either learn to control it or we fix it, you're staying like that." Bobby said simply, only briefly glancing at Dean before returning to look at the screen in front of Sam.

"Nex is Latin for death and murder. Dean, what's this got to do with anything."

"I am Nex, I am Lord of Death…" Dean recited what he'd heard the voice say, leaving the next part silent, saying it only inside his mind.

"Who is?"

Sam's eyes met Dean's and for a moment they just stayed like that before the pleading green eyes of Dean's looked away and down at the ground whilst he muttered, "The voice."


	27. Bittersweet Feelings

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

I feel like I'm always starting this story by saying sorry, after all, it seems to take so long for me to update. Not an exceptionally long chapter but longer than some I've written. Thanks for all the encouragement so far guys!

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27. Bittersweet Feelings

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"Dean… What voice?" Sam asked.

"Just a voice..." Dean replied, squirming slightly under Sam's intense stare, "Just a voice I heard. Can we please leave it?"

"You can't say something ominous like 'the voice' and just leave it at that."

"Yeah well, you can't just handcuff me to the bed and say I'm unpredictable and leave it at that." Dean retorted childishly, staring Sam right in the eyes again, "What if I need to use the bathroom?"

"Then we'll take the cuffs off."

"And what if it's a trick to get you to uncuff me?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply and then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, "Will you stop avoiding the subject, please?"

Dean growled inwardly and looked away, grumbling to himself. He hadn't expected avoidance tactics to work but he'd hoped. When he finally looked back at Sam, he saw the pleading puppy eyes and just like many times before, he caved. "It was a voice I heard…" _in my head _"…in the bathroom."

"In the bathroom? You mean that bathroom?" Bobby questioned, indicating the bathroom behind him, "Just before you came out?"

Dean licked his dry lips and went to speak but instead found himself nodding his head in agreement. He could see the accusation in both Bobby and Sam's eyes. They didn't understand though, how could they? It wasn't that he neglected to tell them or wasn't planning on telling them, true, he didn't want them to know because he felt like he was going crazy, hearing voices, acting like a lunatic, wanting, no… craving that knife like it would fill this empty void that had formed in him and just kept growing the longer and longer he was away from it. How could he tell them that? What could they do to help? They would worry; they'd watch him every second like he was some rabid dog that could bite them any second.

"Was it a spirit?"

"I dunno what the hell it was."

"And that's all it said to you?"

Dean felt his chest tighten and without thinking, his voice had formed the lie, "I don't remember anything else."

"You're sure?" Sam asked and Dean just nodded.

The three of them fell silent and Sam returned to his laptop. No matter where he looked, all Nex was bringing up was a bunch of businesses (Sam wondered how many of them knew the meaning behind the word) and a few Latin references. But now they knew that Nex had a voice, which meant it was a being and now what he had to figure out was what type of being, whether spirit, demon or something else completely, he was determined to find it. He tapped the keyboard gently at first but as frustration grew the taps became louder and angrier. He felt Bobby raise his eyes from the book his was searching in to watch him so Sam sighed and tried to calm himself down.

"Maybe you need to get out of here for a little?" Bobby asked, "We could all do with some food and maybe even – "

"Beer." Dean interrupted him, "I could definitely do with some beer."

Sam shook his head, "We need to find answers."

"Yeah well I don't think taking a hissy fit on your laptop is gonna help us get any." Dean retorted, wondering why his voice held so much venom.

"Fine." Sam snapped back and stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of the chair and the Impala's keys, "But I ain't walking."

He was out the door before Dean even had the chance to form the words 'I'm sorry' that he found himself needing to say but now he was left feeling extremely uncomfortable with Bobby shaking his head in… disappointment?

"This sucks out loud." He said instead, feeling himself sink further into the bed, "This both sucks _and_ blows out loud!"

"He's – " Bobby started but Dean wasn't going to let him finish.

"Worried? I know but I just… I kill the bad guys, I kill the demons! So it's not fair for me to start becoming one of them!"

Bobby nodded in agreement; there were no words he could say and he knew it. He knew that Dean was fighting it, whatever _it_ was. How long could he hold out though? After what these guys had done to him? So Bobby just nodded and hung his head.

"Pass me the laptop." Dean said suddenly.

"What?"

"I can use it one handed! Sam's out getting food so now you're the only one researching, just pass the laptop and let me help."

Bobby sighed, knowing Dean was right, and gently passed the laptop over and watched momentarily as Dean balanced it on his legs and got to typing with his free hand.

"You really think you can fight this?"

"'Course I can." Dean replied defiantly without looking up.

"What?" Bobby asked as he sat back down in front of the books and it was only then that Dean realised the taunting voice hadn't been his, it belonged to that _thing_, Nex or whatever it had called itself.

"Nothing." Dean muttered in reply, focusing on the screen. He pulled up a couple of pages that Sam had been looking through and he knew exactly why he'd been frustrated. Dean studied the very last page Sam had up and scanned it, stopping momentarily over the word 'signum'.

"Bobby… 'signum' can mean 'mark' right?"

"Yeah, mark, seal, sign."

"So Nex Signum could be Death Mark?"

"I guess." Bobby looked over at Dean, his brow furrowed, "What you thinking?"

"Nothing really… just thinking about an old English lesson."

"You what?"

"Just Death Mark, you could change it to Mark of Death or…"

Bobby thought for a second, trying to get his mind of the same track as Dean's, "Or Mark of Nex. So this Nex might be the one in charge, pulling the strings?"

Dean shrugged, he wasn't the genius in the family, that was Sammy's job. He found himself looking over at the door on this thought, wishing that Sam would hurry up.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It had taken him most of the drive to the store to actually calm down because he was beyond fuming. He kept spinning it round and round in his head, the venom in Dean's words burning him. Sam was helping! He was trying to get things back to the way they were meant to be and Dean was the one taking a hissy fit, not him! But by the time Sam actually reached the store, he decided that he was maybe just being that little bit childish and that it wasn't Dean's fault.

Sam found himself thinking back to the school where it all started and found himself wishing he'd kept arguing with Dean about the case but then what would have happened to those possessed people? Besides, he kind of figured now that maybe they would have just set something else up for Dean.

He wasn't buying much, just some beer and some food so it didn't cost much; he just used the cash he had on him instead of using one of the scammed credit cards. And in no time he was heading back to the motel, trying his best just to think of this like just another case. He ran everything that had happened through his head, repeating important facts and trying to figure out what _had happened_ to Dean and what _was_ _happening_ to Dean. And who the hell was Nex?

It wasn't long before he made the same connection Dean had about the Latin phrases and signum meaning mark and that just possibly at one point in time it hadn't been called the Death Mark or even the Mark of Death but just maybe it had been the Mark of Nex or the Signum of Nex. So now everything seemed to be pointing to this Nex being the one behind the group, but the question was what did he want with Dean?


	28. Verses

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Weehay! Another chapter… finally… Thanks for the reviews and for just reading because if you didn't read… I wouldn't feel compelled to write :D I'm in two minds about this chapter, part of me says "it's fine" and "stick with what you've written" and another part says "bin it and rewrite… NOW!" So I'm posting it and if it's not up to scratch feel free to rip it to shreds and tell me to rewrite it… :D

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28. Verses

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Bobby closed another dusty volume and chucked it gently yet impatiently onto the pile of other useless books. He was coming up with nothing and judging by the aggravated taps from the laptop, he could tell Dean wasn't fairing much better. He pulled another book in front of him and opened it, wondering if this would be the one to give them the answers that they needed.

He absently glanced at the clock and found himself only momentarily distracted, wondering where on earth that Sam had gotten to? One Winchester in trouble was bad enough; he didn't need another one to worry about too.

Words circled in his mind as he tried concentrating, skim reading each page, pausing every now and then when he came across a few familiar letters but nothing seemed to jump out at least not until he was about a third way through the book and he came across two words. _Nex Signum._ Death Mark. Beneath these two words was a verse and Bobby pulled himself up in his seat, reading it carefully.

"_Through the darkness come the pleas, the screams of misery. _

_He falters not and walks ahead for all these souls are lost and dead._

_The triumph in his bitter eyes shine brighter than the moon, _

_Little does this demon know that dawn shall bring his doom. _

_You cannot kill a fallen one, they will not wilt and die, _

_But strip them of their very essence and watch them as in pain they writhe."_

Okay… so he had a lead… he had some old rhyme that was dated back a few hundred years and was basically one confusing riddle. The 'he' it referred to was probably Nex, that much Bobby was willing to guess and he figured that the first couple of lines was probably a pretty good description of Nex's history. But the whole 'bring his doom' part, that's where it got confusing because if this was wrote that long ago, then what was Nex doing here and now?

Bobby raised his head to look over at Dean… no, he wouldn't mention it yet. He'd see what else the book had before getting anyone's hopes up. The door creaked open and his head snapped towards it, hand unconsciously moving towards his gun but as Sam's thick brown mop appeared, he eased himself back to researching.

"Where you been?" Dean asked.

Sam held up the goodies he'd brought, food and beer as requested. "Refreshments."

"Took you long enough." Though Dean smirked as he said it, hoping Sam would catch the teasing tone and desperately hoping Sam had calmed down.

For a moment Dean thought Sam was still pissed off but then a smile found its way across his face and Sam laid everything down on his bed as the table had no available space, "Found anything?"

Dean laughed bitterly, "Yeah right – looking for a needle in a stack of needles anyone?"

"Bobby?"

"Mmmm?" Bobby replied distractedly, head burrowed over the same book and brow furrowed deeply.

"Bobby?" Sam asked again, a little worried by the lack of response.

Dean looked over at Bobby now and he couldn't help wondering what was so damn interesting about that book, "Hey, you still with us?"

Bobby glanced up at the boys for second before turning back he page, quickly scanning it and closing the book. Neither brother had the chance to ask what was wrong when Bobby grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door, "I gotta make a phone call… Be back in a few minutes."

Sam and Dean could only stare as the elder hunter exited the room and closed the door behind him. Sam walked over to the table and peered down at the book, "What the hell was that about?"

"Maybe he needs to take a leak?" Dean offered, his suggestion held more confusion then humour.

"I think he found something."

"Then why'd he leave?"

"I dunno… maybe he does need to make a call."

"Or maybe he found something and he doesn't want to be in the same room as me?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Self pity Dean?"

"I'm just saying… none of us know what is going on here so maybe he found something and it scared him."

"Or maybe he just got tired of your whining and decided to leave me to listen to it."

"Look, enough of the maybes." Dean shook his head, "He said he'd be back in a minute right?"

"Yeah…"

But it was over half an hour before Bobby finally returned to the room. Once he'd walked through the door and closed it before him, he ran a hand across his face and looked from brother to brother, his gaze finally resting on Dean, "Did your Dad ever talk about your birth?"

"What? Why? You want some embarrassing stories to share?"

"Oh believe me, I've got plenty of embarrassing stories about the pair of you… just tell me, did your Dad ever talk about it?"

"No… It was never the kind of thing that came up. I mean, why would it?"

"So you don't know if anything happened?"

"Where are you going with this Bobby?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Bobby looked back down to the book and sighed, "I found a couple of verses that I think talks about this demon guy… and there's this one that talks about a kid… a baby…"

"And what? You think it meant to be me?"

"Kind of looks that way – I had to just check a few details… didn't think you'd know."

"Details? What details?"

"If there were any complications and such… Dean here had his first NDE before he even reached one day old…"

"NDE?" Dean cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Near-death experience." Sam stated, his tone holding shock and bewilderment, "But Dad… he would have mentioned something like that. It's not the kind of thing you just forget about."

"Maybe but I guess he just didn't see the point in telling you."

"Dude, I'm invincible." Dean smirked, trying his best to cover up the worry of what this meant and why it had Bobby shaken so much.

"Shouldn't say that." Bobby smirked this time, a bitter smirk that had no trace of humour, "You definitely shouldn't say that."

Bobby shook his head in reply to the confused stares and walked over to the book, opening it at the page he memorised and he spun it round for Sam to read the second verse he'd found.

"Deathly still the new born lies, his heart no longer beats

Call forth the angels to take the child while his mother weeps

She'll plead and pray for her son who should never grow

But someone else has plans for him, little does she know

Death comes knocking and whispers to the new born

"_You may feel lost and lonely; you may get tired and worn, _

_But Live and thrive and grow old but never die,_

_So when the time is right I shall claim what's mine."_"

As Dean listened to Sam read out loud, his heart began to hammer in his chest and he closed his eyes, repeating silently the words that Nex had said to him. _"I am Nex. I am Lord of Death and I am part of you. Always have been and always will be."_

"Well this is just awesome." He spat and the room fell silent.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A/N: I can't believe that the two part Season Finale starts tonight and that some people have already been able to watch it... I'm gonna go sulk until I get my chance to see it. And then I'm gonna cry while I'm watching it...


	29. Needing Out

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

First of all – Season Finale… TONIGHT! I'm both sad and happy, anxious and excited and well I just can't wait…

Right… now to the Fic! Sorry for all the slow updates, got my college exam next week so I'm studying hard and I've had some early shifts this week which means I've been falling asleep on a night… when I would normally be writing my fics. BUT – enough excuses! Here is the fic! Sorry for any grammar mistakes that always happen when I upload a chapter… I'm very lazy and one day will actually go back through everything and correct it.

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29. Needing Out

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It took several minutes before anyone decided to break the awkward silence that had fallen and it was Sam who took the first brave step into the river of denial, feeling the water soak right up to his waist, "Maybe it doesn't mean Dean."

"Yeah… maybe it's just coincidence that my little baby heart happened to stop beating and yet miraculously I'm still here and now there some weirdo cult after my hide and this demon that's suddenly come into the picture." Dean mocked, "Yeah, there's no way that means me."

"Bitching at your brother won't make you feel better, Dean." Bobby stated flatly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Why don't you just uncuff me and I'll go bitch to someone else?" His voice rose in anger and as it did, so did a deep underlying pressure in his head and he felt himself needing to squint through the sudden on burst of pain that flashed through his skull, "But hey! Then I might really be in trouble 'cause I might loose control again and gut someone."

"Dean! I understand you're frustrated. This whole thing just keeps getting more and more complicated but we've got to at least try to stay in control." The flat tone had risen to a warning tone now.

"That's easy for you to say! You're not the one who feels like he's losing his freakin' mind and going schizo!" The pain was growing even more intense now and he had to close his eyes tightly to try and keep it in check.

"You're hardly going schizo or are you telling me you're seeing things and you're hearing voices that are telling you to do stuff?" Sam mocked now, partly out of anger and partly to try and cool his brother off a little.

At Sam's words, Dean's eyes snapped open and he spared Sam a fleeting glance before deciding that the bed cover he was lying on was a lot more interesting and important than the conversation, or _minor_ dispute, they were having.

"Dean?" Sam asked, his voice breaking slightly as he recognised the vulnerable look in Dean's eyes, "Dean… please…"

Dean still didn't look up, he only mildly listened. Instead he focused all his energy on following the pattern on the cover and attempted to block everything else out because it was getting all too much. He couldn't deal with the idea that some Demon had come along and claimed him as their own… just like that yellow eyed bastard had done to Sam. But this was different… Dean was meant to protect Sam but who was meant t protect Dean?

He felt a hand on his leg and found himself involuntarily looking up into his brothers deep and sorrowful eyes. He opened his mouth to object, thought about pushing Sam away, but Sam's eyes had locked with his and Dean could see the pleading from his own eyes reflected back amongst the pleading from Sam's.

"Demon's like to mess with your mind. They get some sort of kick out of it. You are NOT going insane." Sam said softly. He hated how young Dean looked at the moment, how young and so terribly exposed, "Nothing's gonna happen to you as long as I'm around."

Dean felt the corners of his mouth twitch, if only slightly, Sam throwing his own words back at him like that wasn't something he expected but before he had time to truly appreciate it, he felt as if electricity had just jolted through his entire body and being that he had past experience with that, yeah, it felt a hell of a lot like electricity. It only waved through once, causing his back to arch and his limbs to stiffen and he clenched his jaw against the cry of pain that was so desperate to escape.

"Dean?" Sam questioned, hand rising from his brothers leg slightly, as if afraid he'd break him.

The pain lingered in his body and his head felt like it was about to split open, like a dagger being driven deep into his skull. He pressed the palm of his free hands into one of his eye sockets, trying his best to push back the pain. He could hear voices in the background, all jumbled and mixed up but they clearly belonged to a worried Sam and Bobby. And then another voice sliced through the pain, intensifying it with every syllable it pronounced, like a mini earthquake vibrating through his mind.

"Don't fight it. You still don't understand do you? You should have died, you shouldn't have made it past a day old but you did because of me! And now you owe me."

"Shut up." Dean muttered under his breath over and over again, "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

Sam and Bobby watched anxiously and helplessly, not knowing what was going on or how they could stop it.

"Just pick it up. Hold it in your hands and you'll know how right it feels, how much this is meant for you. There's a piece of me in that dagger… and that means there's a piece of you in it too. Forget about Sammy! He's already lost and now it's time to focus on your destiny! Pick it up, Dean."

"Shut up!" Dean screamed to the voice, the pain and words too much in his current state. He felt claustrophobic; he needed to be out… it was too much. Just far too much. He pulled himself up and jumped off the bed, only to be held back by that damn cuff. But he needed to be out! The room was too small. He was too hot and too crowded; by Sam, Bobby, the pain, Nex. He just needed to be away.

The voice laughed in his head as he tried hopelessly to pull away from the bed, pulling the cuff so hard it was rubbing against his skin, wearing at the skin and tearing it, causing blood to start seeping out.

"Dean! Calm down!" Sam shouted, putting his hands on Dean's shoulders and trying to force him round to look at him, but Dean ignored the touch and Sam looked towards Bobby, pleading with him, begging that there was something to do.

But Bobby had nothing. He didn't know what to do other than try and calm the kid down.

"Let me go." Dean whispered, tugging the cuffs over and over and over, with more force each time. He was desperate to be away, desperate to disappear somewhere that had only darkness and silence and no watchful eyes or taunting voices… somewhere he could just be and not have to think, not have to do anything, not have to fight.

With one last cry for escape, pain shot through Dean once more, starting from behind his eyes and his chest and merging together as the pain seared towards his shoulder and down his arm. As the pain made it's way to his finger tips, he tugged once more and the cuff broke in half, causing him to propel backwards into Sam where he spun round and steadied himself for mere milliseconds before his frantic eyes landed on the door and he ran towards in, lungs and skin crying out for fresh air to cool him.

With the kid moving away from a completely shocked Sam, Bobby moved into action, grabbing Dean and spinning him back round and further into the room, away from the door because God only knows where he would go and what he would do once he got out.

"Dean!" His firm voice made the word come out like an order and the boy flinched and stood still, eyes frantic and searching, flashing back to the door and the ground but never at Bobby or Sam.

Bobby took a step towards him, holding his hands out to show he wasn't a threat but Dean seemed to inch away anyway, his desperate hands moving towards the table for support and Bobby noted it was probably only willpower alone that was keeping him up… that or something darker.

"I just wanna go!" Dean pleaded, still not looking at either of the others. He shuffled away from Bobby, needing the distance because the room was too small and everything was too close together, too jumbled up… even his thoughts were falling over each other. So he moved away from Bobby, hand out and holding the table to steady him because he was sure he kept swaying, light headedness and confusion gripping him.

"Please, Dean, tell us what's wrong." Sam bit his lip as he watched Bobby edge closer to Dean.

"I need to go. Just please… let me out." He nearly whimpered but as he moved around the table, he hand caught on something cold and soothing.


	30. Runaway

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Hello kind people! I have finally been able to get this chapter wrote up, I just hope you enjoy it and I hope you enjoy the little cliffie at the end. :)

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30. Runaway

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Now normally, when you've handcuffed someone to a bed, you don't really see them as much of a threat so you don't really see much point in hiding the dagger that you're researching. After all, it's not as if the person handcuffed to the bed will show a sudden and unknown amount of strength that just isn't normal and will break the handcuffs and in turn some how get near the dagger…

Or at least that's what Sam and Bobby had reasoned. In retrospect, maybe it hadn't been the best reasoning considering that nothing in their lives were normal and definitely not easy.

"Dean?" Sam ventured his voice light and reasoning.

Dean felt his grip tighten around the cooling object and his breathing eased, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of the knife. He didn't ask for this, he didn't want any of it and it wasn't fair how right holding the knife felt, it wasn't fair how right the murderous emotions felt as they raised up in him but it felt so good… how was he supposed to fight against that?

"Let me out of here!" He screamed and both Sam and Bobby had to admit that he kind of looked like a madman, waving the knife at the pair of them with a wild look in his eyes.

That was when Sam realised he was still fighting. Whatever kept taking a hold of Dean hadn't managed to fully do it this time, "Put the knife down and we'll sort through this."

"No! Just let me out…" His voice was angry and growing colder by the syllable, "I… I can't breath."

"Yes you can." Sam begged, taking a step towards his brother, "Please Dean, I know you can fight this."

"_No you can't. He's lying. He'll lock you up and throw away the key." _Nex taunted him inside his head, _"Let me deal with him."_

"Everyone just shut up! Shut up!" Dean shouted, raising the hand that held the knife to his forehead, trying to force back the voice.

Bobby reached out to grab Sam's arm, stopping him from moving any closer to Dean, "He's not himself at the moment. He could hurt someone…"

Deciding it probably wouldn't help to thump his fist against his forehead, he took several deep breaths instead, trying to steady his shaking hand. Every breath he took sent a pain across his chest and a dull pain throbbed behind his eyes.

"_You can stop the pain. Just let go. Stop fighting."_

"I said shut up!" Almost immediately after saying these words Dean lowered his hand and laughed at himself, he was sure that his actions seemed crazy and yeah, desperate too. _I'm going nuts._

"_Let go."_

"Dean, please."

Two conflicting voices and Dean just wanted them to be quiet so he could think. But thinking was getting harder and harder, harsh and cold emotions clogging up any clarity his brain may have had.

"I just wanna be left alone." He hung his head and his dropped his arms, just standing there looking lost.

Bobby pushed Sam back a little and squeezed passed him, slowly rounding the table. He didn't know what he planned on doing when he reached Dean, maybe gently pull the knife away from him and lead him outside where he could get the fresh air. However, he didn't expect Dean to lunge at him.

Bobby dodged quickly though, hunter instincts kicking in causing the knife to only catch his upper arm and whilst shocked by the unexpected act, Dean flew past him and knocked Sam out the way and was out the motel door in a flash.

Once of the motel Dean just kept running, still gripping the knife tightly. He wasn't planning on stopping any time soon even though the cold air nipped at his exposed skin on his arms and his heart beat was erratic and breathing far heavier than it should have been for a fit young guy.

"_You're mine Dean. You can't run from that."_

He didn't acknowledge the voice, instead he just ran harder. He didn't even know where he was running to so he just ran out of the motel car park and followed the road, thankful for what little control he had.

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Bobby pulled himself up, clutching his arm as the blood seeped through. It wasn't a bad cut but it wasn't a nice one either, after all it was deep and after a quick inspection he decided it wasn't deep enough to need stitches. He looked over at Sam and could see he was torn between chasing after Dean and helping Bobby.

"I'm fine." Bobby growled, "Go on, he needs you!"

So with a quick nod, Sam grabbed was out the door shouting at the top of his lungs, calling for Dean. But of course, he didn't answer. In fact he was no where to be seen and Sam immediately regretted his hesitation.

"Dean!"

He ran a few steps out into the middle of the parking lot, hoping for a sign but everything around him was still.

"Dean!"

Nothing. He cursed himself and ran back inside the room, searching Dean's jacket for the Impala's keys. Bobby immediately grabbed his own and pulled his jacket on.

"You take the north road and I'll take the south. Call me if you see anything." Bobby suggested and Sam nodded his approval.

And with Sam going north and Bobby going south… they just hoped they'd find Dean before anything really bad happened.

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Dean could run a mile in less than fifteen minutes, and it was about a mile down the road that he turned off the path and ran into the trees that had now appeared on the left. Whether it was just good fortune or not, as he was consumed by the darkness of the trees he thought he saw headlights and a sleek black car go by, though it was dark so he could have been mistaken about the colour.

But that didn't stop him from running; it just pushed him, made him want to escape even more. He pushed and pushed himself, body running on adrenaline alone, every muscle screaming for him to stop because it wasn't ready for this; it was too busy trying to fix other wounds.

And then he stumbled and his muscles tensed, his body didn't even attempt to keep itself up, it just fell and he landed on the ground hard on hands and knees. His palms sank into the moist soil and he could feel his eyes burning from unspent tears.

He looked up towards where the sky should be to see only the top branches of the trees and he let out a long terrifying and agony filled scream that echoed through the mini forest all around him.

"_Did that really make you feel any better?"_

"What the hell have you done to me?"

"_I'm only claiming what's mine."_

"And what? You're going to possess me?" Dean spat, looking down at the ground beneath him, noticing that he still held the knife but he couldn't bring himself to let go.

"_I thought you understood. To possess you would make you a vessel… no, you're more than that. You're a tool, an instrument… a weapon. My weapon."_

Dean felt his heart tighten and rage spread through his veins like poison, "You can't use me if I'm dead."

And so he raised the knife in both hands and held it out in front of him, aimed for his heart.


	31. Broken Man

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Mwuahaha! No more college means my muse gets to play with the keyboard a bit so it's been hard at play and has come up with this little update for you. After all… that was a mean cliffie that I ended with.

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31. Broken Man

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Sam had been driving for about twenty minutes and he hadn't seen any sign of his brother. He flipped his phone open, careful to watch the road and for Dean whilst scrolling down the list and dialling Bobby's number. Bobby answered in a matter of seconds, voice slightly agitated.

"Anything?" Sam asked

"Nothing. No… nothing yet."

"He's out here somewhere with some Goddamn Demon stalking him… we have to find him."

"We will Sam. We've just gotta keep looking."

"I'm not gonna stop until I find him."

"I know."

And with that the call was ended and Sam punched the steering wheel in irritation.

"Now that's not gonna help is it?" A cold harsh and taunting voice came from the backseat and Sam's foot slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

His whole body twisted in his seat to turn to look at the man in the back seat, a smirk playing across the man's lips and yellow eyes mocking him, "You've gone passed him you know."

"What the hell do you want?" Sam spat; hand moving unconsciously around to his back, even though there was no gun there not that it would help if there was one.

"He broke the deal Sammy boy."

"Who broke what deal?" The growl escaped his throat threateningly even without him meaning it to.

"Our mutual friend Nex. You know, the regular 'you scratch my back I scratch yours'? Yeah well, he broke it."

"I don't give a damn! Just leave my family the hell alone!"

"You're going to stop him." The man demanded.

"I'm not gonna do anything for you!"

"And what about for Dean? That was the deal you know… he got Dean and I got you."

"I don't know what's with you demons thinking you can just come and claim a human as a pet! It doesn't work like that; we don't belong to either of you."

"Let's look at the bigger picture here Sam, forget your problem with me for just a moment and listen. He's going to kill you, he knows you're a threat so he's gonna get rid of you and he's going to make Dean do the honours."

"There's no way Dean would do that."

"That slash across your throat tells a different story my boy. So let's turn this car around, go back about a mile and you'll find him in the trees."

Sam turned away in anger and thumped the steering wheel again, silently praying for Dean to never find out how Sam was treating his baby or Sam really would be dead.

"Look!" Sam growled, spinning back round to face the man only to find the backseat empty except for what was probably a fine trace of sulphur.

"Damn it!" He screamed out in frustration.

What now? Turn back like that demonic son of a bitch told him to do? Carry on going just to spite him? Demons lie… they're known for it. After all what did old yellow have to gain from telling Sam this small piece of information?

"Damn it!" He screamed once more, spinning the wheel around quickly and making a u-turn, "You'd better not be lying."

The tires screeched once more as Sam pushed the car as hard as it would go, watching the dashboard to see how far he'd gone. A mile the demon had said… fine… then a mile he'd go.

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Dean's hands were shaking badly as he tried to breathe deeply and steady his speeding heart. He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself for the impact of the knife but he heard the faint echo of words floating to the surface of his memory.

"_Please Dean, I know you can fight this." _Sam's voice echoed through his mind

"I'm trying Sammy, I really am." Dean breathed, slowly bringing his hands back down to the ground where he placed them in front of himself, steadying his weary body as he leaned forward, "I really am trying."

His breathing hitched softly as tears began to force their way out from under his eyelids. He couldn't do this to Sam. He couldn't leave him alone, he had to fight and he knew Sam would be looking for him and the last thing Sam needed was to find his brother dead in the middle of some forest.

"_Forget about him! The only reason he cares about where you are is because he's afraid of what you'll do."_

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" Dean begged, his walls had fallen down and he felt like a broken man.

"_You keep asking that question like you expect the answer to change." _

"Maybe I'm hoping for a miracle."

"_Don't hope too much, you'll only disappoint yourself. After all, why would God give _you_ a miracle? You're not even meant to be here anymore, the only reason you are is because of me."_

"I didn't ask for this."

"_But you were given it so stop feeling sorry for yourself and get your arse up; it's time to put your skills to use." _

Dean shivered, the way that Nex spoke reminded him so much of his father and it scared him slightly that he found himself obeying, dragging himself up from the ground.

"_Now then my Dean, he's almost here. When he comes, I want you to look him dead in the eye and you'll see all that fear he's feeling and all that anger. He's going to kill you, unless you kill him first. Do you understand?"_

Again, Nex sounded so much like his father, ordering him around, drilling instructions into him and before Dean even realised it, he mumbled the words 'yes sir' on instinct.

"Dean!" A voice rang out through the forest. A familiar voice.

"_Time to play."_

"Dean!" The owner of the voice grew closer and Dean shuffled nervously on his feet, adjusting his grip on the knife.

1

He heard rather than saw Sam weave his way through the trees and he could feel his eyes on him, but Dean stared at the ground, terrified to look up.

"Dean?" Sam questioned, "Dean, are you okay?"

"He says you're going to kill me." Dean said flatly.

"Who says? Nex? He's lying to you Dean. You know I wouldn't hurt you."

"You've tried it before. You made me promise to kill you if you ever turned evil… I guess it kind of works two ways so you're here to kill me."

"Dean, you're not evil and I'm _not_ going to kill you. Please Dean, put the knife down and come over here."

Dean shook his head in the same manner a scared six year old might and Sam felt his knees buckle slightly. When had his strong protective older brother started looking like a vulnerable child?

"Dean, I'm not going to hurt you. You have to believe me." _What has this bastard done to you?_

"I want to but I can't. It's not right, I shouldn't be here."

"Dean, I need you. I need you here."

"What's dead should stay dead!" Dean shouted, looking up at Sam for the first time, betrayal, pain and anger etched into his features. He refused to look into Sam's eyes, turning away almost immediately after his outburst.

"No, I don't believe that he's the reason you're here." Sam took a step closer, holding his hands out to show he was unarmed, "Come on Dean. We can sort this out."

"Stay back!" Dean warned, spinning around and backing off, raising the knife threateningly, "Stay the hell away from me Sammy!"

"Why?" Sam asked, "Why should I?"

"Because I don't know what's right anymore! I feel so screwed up! I don't wanna kill you but he keeps telling me to and I can feel it, I can see myself doing it and it's so Goddamn hard not to do what he says." He could feel the anger rising, rage building up but he refused to look his brother in the eye, he didn't want to see what Nex had told him would be there because then he'd loose the little control he did have. "I don't trust myself anymore."

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A/N: You didn't think I could really make the almighty Dean Winchester commit suicide? Did you? I might put him through hell but I love him to much to put him out of his misery :D


	32. Trust

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Quick and short update now. I wanted to get this up before I went to work but it wasn't haven't it so now I'm back, I'm putting it up. So here you go. – Chapter 32.

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32. Trust

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"You don't need to trust yourself because _I_ trust you. I will never stop trusting you and I trust you enough for the both of us but what I really need is for you to trust me. Please Dean. I need you." Sam pleaded, slowly making his way forward as Dean looked everywhere but at him and Sam knew his brother was contemplating Sam's words.

Dean was still shaking though this was no surprise considering how cold the air was. He swallowed hard and wanted to believe what Sam was telling him, wanted to believe he could be trusted but with each shuffle Sam took forward, Dean could imagine the dagger going deeper into him and he knew he would receive a guilty satisfaction if it came to that.

_Lies._ Nex whispered. _He's going to kill you. He's afraid of you._

"I'm going to take that knife from you now." Sam said, so the movement wouldn't shock his brother, "And we're gonna go to the Impala and we'll drive back to the motel. Okay?"

Dean stiffened at Sam's words, his grip on the knife tightening once again, "Please, no. Please don't take it away Sammy. Please."

Sam slowly raised his hands to grasps Dean's, his face growing puzzled from Dean's words. Dean was still fighting, so why did he still want the knife? "Dean, you have to give it to me. Please. This thing is killing you."

_You heard him. Give it to him, right in the gut. Dig it deep and twist it round. You know you'll enjoy it._

Dean pulled back against Sam's hold but the broken man held none of his normal strength, he felt weak as he tried to get away from his brother and from Nex's words, "No… I can't. You don't understand."

"No, you don't understand. It's like an addiction, you think it's good but it isn't. You have to fight it. Please, stay strong for me." Sam growled softly as he spoke, one hand moving to his brother's chin, forcing their eyes to lock, "Look at me Dean. We'll do this together. We'll fight this."

"I… I can't." Dean bit his lip, finding himself unwillingly searching Sam's eyes for what Nex had told him would be there.

_See the anger? See the fear? He's going to kill you._

"Sammy, please. I'm sorry. Just don't be angry. I'm sorry. I don't care what you do to me just don't me angry with me, don't be afraid of me." Dean begged, seeing faint hints of the anger and fear weaving through his brother's eyes. He felt his grip slacken on the knife at his brother's touch.

Sam sighed, bringing Dean's hand down to his side and he leaned in, pressing his forehead against his brother's, "I'm not afraid of you Dean and I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with this bastard that's done this to you."

_Demons lie Dean but so do humans. He's lying to you. Can't you tell? Can't you feel his heart beat speeding up? He's just waiting for you to make a move, waiting for you to prove him right. You don't want to die do you?_

"I don't want to die…" Dean whispered, tears forcing their way from beneath his eyelids, "No I don't want to die."

"Dean?" Sam questioned, raising his head to look his brother in the face properly.

"I refuse to die." Dean hissed, anger flashing through his eyes. He pulled away from Sam and readjusted the knife, bring his arm back up. "But I refuse to live like this and I refuse to live without Sammy!"

One quick movement and he was down on his knees, dagger forced down into the ground in front of him. His eyes were full of rage, pain, bloodlust, hope, hate and love as he looked up at Sam and bared his teeth almost threateningly, "Sammy, you need to get this bastard out of my head."

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Sam stared in complete and utter disbelief as his brother thrust the knife into the ground below. If he was honest he was caught off guard and had no idea what his brother was going to do with it, for a split second he even thought one of them would end up with it somewhere in their body. But as he gazed down at Dean, he saw that the person in front of him was still his stronger older brother who would always try to protect him, even though giving into temptation would be so much easier.

"I know Dean." Sam whispered to Dean's words, "I know but first let's get you out of here and back to the motel. You're filthy and wet – I don't want you getting ill on top of this."

Dean scoffed and accepted the hand that Sam held out, pulling himself up. What was this? He knew it wasn't possession, even though it seemed there was some demon inside his head that refused to shut up and leave.

_I told you. You're my weapon._ Nex goaded though anger was evident in the voice, probably pissed Dean still had the will to defy him.

Dean ignored the comment and simply looked at Sam now he was standing. Sam made a movement to turn away but when he noticed Dean didn't follow, he raised a questioning eyebrow and just looked at his brother.

Dean looked down in reply, indicating the knife, "I know I can't have it but I can't just leave it here. Sam, it's like leaving my hand behind, or my eye. I just can't, it doesn't feel right."

That explained his reluctance to let go of the knife earlier and his eagerness to grab it. Sam nodded and knelt down, pulling the knife from the ground and just holding it. It felt like a knife, a dagger, a weapon. It didn't feel special to him, but then why should it? Sam turned to leave again, this time though Dean followed though Sam noticed the slight distance he kept, as if he was afraid to get to close.

Moments before reaching the edge of the trees, Sam felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and he pulled it out, not even looking at the screen.

"Bobby?" He asked and he felt Dean stiffen again behind him.

"I ain't got anything yet Sam." Bobby started, feeling slightly guilty.

"It's okay. I'm with him now."

"You what? I thought I told you to call me. Look, never mind. How is he?"

"He's Dean." Sam replied, a slight smile on his face, "We're heading back to the motel so I guess we'll meet you there."

"Right." Bobby replied, noticing Sam's cryptic way of answering him. He only hoped that meant Dean had some of his self control back, "Shouldn't take much more than half an hour."

Sam hung up the phone, wondering if Bobby's words were a warning or just a statement, either way he aimed to be back at the motel before Bobby.

"He doesn't trust me." Dean said flatly as they approached the Impala.

"He didn't say anything like that." Sam protested, "He doesn't trust Nex but that doesn't mean he doesn't trust you."

"I don't blame him for it. I think he's right not to, you on the other hand… I don't want to hurt you Sam." Dean's hand settled on the passenger door handle, he's already accepted that he wouldn't be driving without either or them saying anything about it.

"And that's why I trust you." Sam replied, climbing into the Impala and watching as Dean did too. He turned the ignition and set off gently down the road, "We're in it together whether you like it or not. You and me all the way."

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	33. Reunited

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

You wouldn't believe how much trouble this chapter has been to write. I'm still not completely comfortable with it but I'm letting it go up… Please be gentle with me :)

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33. Reunited

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The ride back was quiet. Dean shifted uncomfortably, feeling he should say something. After all he had run off into a forest with a knife and the intention to kill someone, even if it would have been himself. Sam didn't know about that, Sam didn't ever need to know about how he held the knife over his own heart. After all, he felt reasonably normal again, a lingering headache reminding him that Nex was there watching his every move and listening to his every thought. He ignored the knife, it was the best way to overcome the urge to grab it and coat it in fresh blood.

He rubbed his temples, frowning slightly as thoughts collided in his mind. Ever since the knife had come into the picture, he knew it was his and he wanted it. But Nex hadn't even emerged until after his little 'therapy session' with that nutcase doctor and whatever the hell Mary had done to him. If they were going to get any answers, she would probably be the best place to look.

"We've got to find Mary." Dean muttered, his gaze never leaving that spot on the passenger window that reflected his pale complexion.

"Woah, what? Who's Mary?" Sam asked, his eyes searching out Dean for the slightest second. Sam had known of so few Mary's that the main person he associated the name with was his mother, sure there were important Mary's in the bible and throughout history but she was important in their life – her death after all had led them to hunting.

"The woman - you know, the cold hearted witch?" Dean said, still not turning away from his reflection.

"Oh…" Was all Sam found he could say, shocked by the mini revelation.

Dean went quiet again after that and Sam followed suit, it wasn't until they arrived back at the motel that either of them spoke. Dean had climbed out of the car and had gone straight to the trunk; Sam too stunned by this action took a second to catch up.

"What you doing?" Sam asked, rounding round the back of the car as Dean began moving things about and searching through the mess.

"Looking for 'cuffs." He answered simply, growling in frustration when he couldn't see any, "I know we have at least two pairs."

"Well you broke one pair…" Sam sighed, "And you'd probably just break the other pair too."

Dean stiffened and stood up, his eyes never meeting Sam's, "I never said they were for me."

"Oh come on, I know you and I also know that you're not going to find any 'cuffs in there."

"Why not?"

"Psychic, remember?" Sam smiled as he turned around and started walking back to the room.

"You're not that kind of psychic…" Dean snapped, closing the trunk dismissively before heading after Sam, "What did you do with them?"

"Do with what?" Sam asked innocently.

"You sly dog." Dean muttered, a grin spreading across his face.

Sam shook his head gently but let his smile grow, let Dean think what he wanted, at least it meant taking his mind off things if only for awhile. As for the missing 'cuff, it was probably tucked somewhere in the trunk but after seeing how unnerved and anxious being cuffed to the bed last time had made his brother, he didn't want to see it happen again.

"You reckon Bobby'll have any rope?" Dean asked, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm not going to ask him. You're not getting tied up again."

"Sam…" Dean started pleading and Sam wasn't the only one who could make big sad puppy dog eyes.

"No." Sam sighed, sitting himself next to Dean, "Besides, if we're going looking for this Mary we'll need you to be able to move freely."

Dean just stared down at the worn motel carpet, so lost in worry that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up to the door and didn't hear it opening, he didn't however hear it close. He looked up and saw Bobby standing staring with eyes full of anger and something else… and Dean couldn't bare to see him look at him that way so he turned his attention back to the carpet, shame rippling through him.

"I'm gonna implant both you boys with a damn tracking device!" Bobby growled, "If it's not one, it's the other."

He scraped a chair across the floor and placed in front of the brothers, taking a seat. He grabbed Dean's chin and moved it about roughly, taking in Dean's appearance, trying to catch his eye. The kid looked like hell, probably felt it too. "Well you're alive, that's a start. Mean's I might still be able to throttle you myself when this is all over."

Dean turned away sharply, forcing Bobby to let go of his chin. He closed his eyes tightly and tried his best to force back the emotions. He felt so screwed up and he wondered how many more breaks he would have before he was beyond fixing.

"What happened?" Bobby asked him; at least Dean thought he was asking him as Sam remained completely silent. Dean stayed quiet too.

Sam watched Dean as he refused to answer, he shook his head gently and began to tell Bobby as much as he knew, "Nex was messing with his head, kept telling him I was gonna kill him so he had to kill me first. He sees me as a threat."

Dean nodded slightly in agreement, still unable to find any words to say to Bobby. Sam watched him, he felt a clump rising in his throat. What the hell would have happened to him if he hadn't got to him in time? He dreaded to think…

"How'd you find him?" Bobby asked, standing up and heading over to the bathroom. He left the door open as he grabbed a towel and dampened it.

"How'd I find him?" Sam repeated the question, he gasped slightly as he remembered. After the whole commotion he had totally forgot about that yellow eyed son of a bitch.

"That's what I asked." Bobby raised an eyebrow, watching Sam slightly as he retook the seat, pulling Deans chin to face him once again as he washed away the filth from the kids face.

"I got directions."

Dean strained his eyes to look at his brother, speaking for the first time in front of Bobby since getting back to the room, "From who?"

"From an old friend. That yellow eyed bastard. I… I completely forgot… he showed up and told me where to find you and he told me… he told me that Nex broke the deal. They had a deal and Nex broke it."

"Do you know what the deal was?" Bobby asked.

Sam swallowed hard, his throat clogging around the ever growing lump, "He got me and Nex got Dean…"

"Son of a…" Dean put his head in his hands, rubbing his face slightly in irritation before running them up and through his hair, "The deal with Dad… he was just a pawn… I was dead… demons can't bring people back from the dead… not unless someone makes a deal… He played right into it. That bastard played right into it… into their deal…"

"Dean…" Bobby started, letting the hand holding the towel fall down to his side, "Whether or not Nex had anything to do with it… your Dad would have done it anyway… he didn't need something pushing him."

Dean stood up quickly, probably a little too quickly, his vision swimming slightly against the pounding headache, "We need to find Mary. We have to make her talk."

Bobby followed Dean in standing up, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, "We will but I'll tell you now – no one is going anywhere until we've all had some actual sleep and some real food.

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	34. M'fine

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Okay! So it may have taken longer than I wanted it to but here's the new chapter! Thanks for sticking with me!

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34. M'fine

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It's a lot easier to eat, and a hell of a lot easier to sleep, when you don't have a constant migraine pounding behind your eyes and every little glimmer of light feels like the sun is staring you right in the face and every tiny movement and sound feels like your head is stuck inside a very loud drum that sends vibrations through your body and makes you feel like you could fall apart any second. That's why Dean was trying his best to swallow two more painkillers on top of the two that he had already swallowed little over an hour ago.

"You doing any better?" Bobby asked quietly, not wanting to wake the now peaceful Sam.

Dean just threw him one of those smiles and a raised that says 'what do you think?'.

Bobby shook his head and smiled, " Okay, dumb question. But here's a not so dumb question. You have any idea how we're supposed to find this Mary?"

"She usually finds me." Dean put his head back down on his pillow after finally swallowing that second pill, "If anyone should know it should be you and Sam… you found me at the 'hospital'."

"That was all Sam. I was only along for the ride and to get your sorry arse outta trouble… again." Bobby yawned, "Trouble is it was mainly luck, he saw the vans plates so it gave him something to work on."

Dean watched Bobby with bleary eyes, the contagious effect of yawning causing him to yawn too, "So guess it looks like we might have to retrace out steps."

Bobby nodded…. or shook his head… Dean couldn't really tell. The headache seemed to be lifting just enough for sleep to start claiming him. He thought about fighting it but he just wanted to disappear into the darkness of nothingness for awhile, just enough time for him to regain some energy.

Dean's head lolled gently to the side and Bobby looked over at him, a gentle smile on his face, he glanced at the sleeping Sam too and once again shook his head, "You boys are gonna be the death of me."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As he slowly pulled himself from thankfully dreamless sleep, he heard voices. Far away and unintelligible at first but as he drifted closer and closer to the land of the awake, he managed to put names to the faces. It was Sam and Bobby. He caught snippets of what they were the saying, hearing more and more as he became more and more aware.

"You don't really believe they're still there, do you?" Sam asked incredulously.

Dean blinked his eyes open and saw Bobby sigh, "We've got to start someone?"

"But the hospital? Dean's only just got away from there."

"Don't blame him. It was my suggestion." Dean yawned out, pulling himself up and stretching. He winced slightly against his still throbbing head.

"You doing any better?" Bobby asked, looking him up and down and pausing the conversation with Sam.

"You already asked me that." Dean replied.

"That was over ten hours ago"

"Ten hours?" Dean asked. If he'd been asleep for ten hours, why the hell did he still feel so tired? Dean threw his head back against the pillow in semi-frustration though he wished he hadn't after what felt like a bolt of lightening travelling through his head.

Sam narrowed his eyes, watching Dean carefully and slowly made his way over to his brother's side. He sat himself on the edge of the bed and leaned over, placing the back of his hand on Dean's head.

"You've got a temperature." He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke though he feared his worry might have made it shake.

"M'fine!" Dean grunted.

"We could wait." Bobby suggested, ignoring Dean's comment.

Sam looked up at Bobby and nodded before turned back to Dean, who was pulling himself up and off his pillow again.

"I am perfectly fine – apart from the whole Nex thing. If we wait then we could loose whatever trail we might find. I'll even be a good little boy and stay out of trouble."

"You kind of proved that you can't stay out of trouble even if you tried…" Bobby protested and almost laughed at the childish pout he received from Dean.

Sam hung his head and took a deep thinking breath. "Fine, we'll go."

Dean nodded and grinned, pushing Sam off the side of his bed so he could swing his legs out from under the sheets and get dressed. He was nearly successful – managing to push Sam off the bed and managing to stand up. That was before the wave of dizziness hit him, causing his eyes to lose focus and his knees to buckle and body to sway. He tried to take a long breath to fight off the sudden spell but found his lungs felt too tight and it just made his head spin even more along with the room.

Next thing he knew he was back sitting on the edge of the bed with his head forced between his knees. He groaned and blinked, forcing his head up to look at the two worrying faces in front of him.

"When's the last time you ate?" Sam asked, trying to remember the past week along with last night. He could remember Dean picking at the cold food last night but he'd never actually seen him eat any of it.

"I'm fine." Dean said, swatting Sam's hand away from his burning forehead.

"Answer the question Dean." Sam said more forcefully.

Dean mumbled something and judging by the raised eyebrows and semi scowl he was receiving, he guessed he had to repeat it a bit more clearly, "Can't 'memba."

"Not good enough." Sam said, standing up and walking over to the table, where the Impala's keys sat looking forlorn and lonely, "You're not leaving this place until you get some proper food in you… and then we'll see about that temperature."

As Sam snatched up the keys and left the room to go in search of food for Dean, Bobby laid down on the bed Sam had been using, letting his eyes rest for a moment.

"You'll be no use to us if you're at your limits." He spoke in a soft growl.

Dean nodded and watched Bobby carefully, "You slept?"

"Caught a couple of hours after Sam woke up."

Biting his lip, Dean looked towards the door then back at Bobby, "Sam doesn't think going back's a good idea."

"He's worried 'bout what it'll do to you. Don't tell me you're fine… they did something to you Dean that made you more susceptible to this Nex demon and it can't have been nice. You can't blame Sam for not liking it… not after what he found at the house."

"What house?"

Bobby opened an eye and looked at Dean, "When he was looking for ya… he went to the doc's house. Guy's not exactly nice."

"I noticed." Dean muttered, "But if we can find him then we can find Mary. I know we can."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam returned with food and meds and stuffed most of what he'd brought in Dean's direction, ordering him to eat something, get a couple of pills down his throat and drink lots of non alcoholic fluids. Dean complied, feeling far too tired and sickly to object. If he hadn't fallen back to sleep before the day was through, Sam was sure he'd have been begging to get away and go to the hospital – as it was, Dean's body was exhausted and worn out and his mind finally accepted that. Sam had almost threatened that yeah, he would take Dean _a_ hospital but one with actual nurses and doctors.

So it wasn't until early the next day that Sam finally gave in and decided that although Dean still had a temperature… he did look less pale and his forehead felt much cooler and he could actually stand up again and walk without feeling dizzy.

Sam sat uncomfortably behind the wheel of the Impala and Dean was slumped in the passenger seat. Dean had put up no fight to drive the car, he'd just accepted his fate as passenger and climbed in solemnly, Sam was sure he heard him say sorry to his 'baby'. Sam hated that… Dean drove the Impala so much that it just felt wrong to be the one trusted with her, he felt like he was intruding and he felt the niggling feeling that Dean felt it too but he just sat there as the scenery passed them by.

"Are we there yet?" He asked half heartedly and Sam glanced towards him.

"Not far now." Sam replied, turning onto the road where the hospital lay. He looked into the mirror, and Bobby flashed him, letting him know he was still there.

Sam turned his attention back to the road in front of them, eyes widening in surprise. Maybe Bobby hadn't been flashing to say he was still there… maybe he'd been flashing because a large black van had just turned off about half way down the road. At this distance it was hard to make out the plates but he was right – they were pretty familiar.

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	35. Doctor Doctor

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Okay so this chapter is delayed but I hope the length of it makes up for it. Thanks for all the support.

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35. Doctor Doctor

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Sam pressed his foot a little harder on the throttle, just enough so he could get a little closer to the van and instead of parking up outside the hospital like they'd planned, he turned the corner silently, eyes searching for the van and watching it carefully to see where it went. He glanced briefly in the rear-view mirror to check that Bobby was still following them.

"Dude! Where the hell we going? The hospital's back there." Dean nearly shouted.

"See that van?" Sam asked and when Dean merely nodded in reply he continued, "I'm pretty sure that's the same one they took you away in and so I'm following them."

"And if it's not them?"

"I said I'm pretty sure it is."

"But if it's not?"

"Okay… I'm really pretty sure. Like ninety percent sure. That good enough for you?"

"Fine, fine. Just don't lose sight of them."

"Stop distracting me then." Sam sighed, turning slightly to stare hard at Dean, happy to see a small smirk playing across his brother's lips.

They followed the black van for a full mile before Sam started getting paranoid about them getting paranoid. He knew the drill for when there were two cars in use, so after another half mile, he took the next exit and left Bobby to follow the van. He picked up his cell and told Dean to dial Bobby's number. Without questions, Dean did as he was told.

"Yeah I got them." Bobby answered.

"Where do you think they're headed?" Dean asked and even though he couldn't see it, he was sure that Bobby had just shrugged.

"I don't know. They've just pulled into Oak Drive."

"We'll head that way and catch up in a minute." And then Dean hung up turning to Sam, "He says they're in Oak Drive so looks like that's where we're headed."

"Oak Drive? That's where the Doctor lives. 108 Oak Drive. What the hell? They doing clean up or something?"

"I have no idea but it looks like you better step on that gas if we're gonna catch them."

By the time they got to Oak Drive Sam drove straight past number 108 and pulled up several houses away, several feet away from Bobby's truck hoping they didn't look too suspicious. The black van was parked up in front of 108's garage, back facing the house with door wide open. Sam took his phone from Dean and redialled Bobby's number.

"How many?" He asked as soon as Bobby answered.

"Three, two muscles and one brain. I ain't exactly in my prime but I could take one of the muscles while you take the other. Then we can ask our remaining bad guy some questions."

Sam glanced at Dean, noticing how Bobby hadn't exactly included him in the plan but then again, Dean still wasn't exactly in top form. Less responsive and alert than usual and he was still running a slight fever, Bobby could probably take him with both hands tied behind his back. So he understood why Dean was excluded, "Well, it's a start."

"Let me guess… I'm staying in the car?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam who was already hanging up on Bobby and climbing out the car.

"Dean… please don't argue. You could get hurt." Sam pleaded, leaning back into the car, waiting for Dean's answer.

"No – I get it. I'm a liability. I know." He shot Sam what he hoped was a comforting smile and Sam smiled back. Though when Sam closed the door Dean muttered under his breath, "I'm a freaking liability."

Sam moved around to the trunk and popped it open, discreetly pulling out a knife and gun, hiding them on his person. He had the trunk closed by the time Bobby walked over to him, probably hiding similar items.

"You ready?" Bobby growled softly.

"Yeah… any idea what they're doing?"

"Well I ain't seen them come out yet, even though they still have the van open. I think they've separated and either they're looking for something or they're getting rid of evidence."

"Thought as much." Sam reached for his gun as they neared the house, he saw Bobby do the same from the corner of his eye.

They rounded the van and Sam pulled the gun out, aiming it carefully in front of himself and into the back of the empty van before moving towards the front door. Gently reaching out a hand, Sam pushed the door open and took the first tentative step into the house, eyes searching the hallway for any signs of movement.

He heard noises coming from the room at the end and he was sure he could hear footsteps somewhere above his head. He nodded and Bobby and indicated that they elder hunter take the one downstairs while he took whoever was upstairs. Bobby shook his head a sighed, but slowly treaded off towards what he could presume would be the kitchen.

Thinking back to his last visit, Sam tried to remember which stair creaked and which ones didn't… but he as he had been more focused on finding his brother last time, things like creaking steps weren't top priority. So as it was, he took it very slowly and carefully up the stairs and hissed gently about half way up as the step squeaked and moaned. He felt himself freeze but nothing happened so he continued up the stairs and listened carefully to decide where the footsteps had moved to.

It took mere second to locate the heavy footed goon in the room closest to the stairs, the door wide open. Sam braced himself and plucked up enough courage to check around the corner and into the room. The man inside was making one hell of a mess of things, throwing things about and kicking the odd object too. He didn't even glance towards the doorway, for which Sam was thankful.

He ducked out of sight and took a deep breath before tapping on the doorframe a couple of times to grab the man's attention. Movements in the room ceased for a moment before he heard the man approaching the door, he pulled himself against the wall and pulled his gun out, gripping the end tightly, ready to strike as soon as the man was at the doorway.

"You ready so soon Doc?" The man questioned as he stepped out into the hallway and just before Sam managed to hit him hard with the butt of the gun.

The man faltered and took a step backward, threatening to crash loudly to the ground so Sam reached out and grabbed him noting how the goon's eyes were quickly loosing focus.

"Holy crap!" Sam groaned as he tried his best to lower the man down without making a sound but oh god, the bugger was so damn heavy. Too many donuts and not enough exercise. But by the time he was on the floor, he was out cold and Sam was trying to pry his hands out from underneath the large gargoyle of a man. And far too preoccupied with his own business, he had no idea how Bobby's was going.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

From what he could see through the gap in the door, the muscle was facing the away from him and was staring at something inside of a cupboard. Bobby frowned and hoped that whatever the guy was staring at, it would distract him long enough so Bobby could creep up on him and knock him out.

He quietly pushed the door open and entered the room, moving softly across the floor so he would be heard. He cursed inside his mind as he felt his coat snag on chair that had been under the table but had now been scraped half a foot out. The man in front cocked his head to the side and turned around the look at Bobby, a questioning smile spreading across his face.

"Well that wasn't exactly meant to happen." Bobby groaned and only narrowly avoided the right hook that was aimed for his jaw.

The man swung again but Bobby ducked and found himself thinking that he was too old for this stuff and telling himself those Winchester boys better damn well appreciate this. He brought his knee up swiftly to the man's gut, winding him, and pushed him backwards, where he collided with the cupboard, the tremors causing objects on the shelf to topple over and out.

The muscle jumped forward angrily and winced, eyes flaring black and then Bobby realised what the man had been so interested in. He'd probably been wondering why a guy working for demon kept salt in his house… and not just enough salt for a few meals. There were several full salt containers now littering the floor around the possessed man, one rolling gently towards Bobby and tapping against his boot.

And yeah, it was a dirty move and you've always see the bad guys doing it to the good guys in the movies but this guy was twice Bobby's size AND he had a demon inside him making him even stronger. So Bobby quickly picked up the salt container and popped it open, shaking a handful out and throwing it in the man's face.

The man growled angrily and swiped at the air, completely missing his target so Bobby took his opportunity to land a good hard left hook to the guy which stopped the guy in his tracks before he toppled loudly to the floor.

So much for quietly sneaking up on the guy and taking care of things discreetly.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam burrowed his brow as he stared at the unconscious man. The guy had said 'Doc'… was he referring to Doctor Foreman – they guy who had tried to brainwash his brother? If that was true then the 'brain' that Bobby mentioned was him which meant the guy definitely had some answers. So where would he be?

Sam left the room and continued walking down the landing until he came across the door to the Doc's office. It was ajar and Sam was sure he could hear a constant stream of clicking noises coming from inside – clicking noises that he knew all too well to be the sound of someone typing on a keyboard.

He opened the door and took a step inside, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle on the gun as he raised it and pointed it at the man. The man was completely in a world of his own, head down, eyes focused on the computer monitor as he typed away.

"Doctor Foreman?" Sam inquired, flexing his trigger finger slightly.

"I'm not fin…" The man started but stopped as he looked up, eyes widening in horror with an odd glimpse of triumph, "Samuel Winchester I presume?"

Sam smiled wickedly and nodded, "Got it in one."

"How is that charming brother of yours?" Doctor Foreman mocked; a smile similar to Sam's spreading across his face.

"That's none of your business. But I'll tell you what – tell me what you did to him and how I fix it and I might let live." Sam threatened, eyes glancing towards the doorway behind him momentarily as he heard Bobby approaching; "Now you better start talking."

"You're not gonna shoot me. You can't, that would mean killing a human and you don't do that. As for your brother… I merely helped open him up." The doctor gloated.

"Believe me – I will shoot, and there are a lot worse things I can do than kill you." Sam snarked, "Now what do you mean 'open him up'?"

"I mean what I say and I say what I mean." He taunted childishly but then his eyes left Sam and moved towards the doorway, "Ahh, this must be the good cop to your bad cop."

"Oh, you ain't getting any good cops – it's all bad cops here today." Bobby growled as he entered the room.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_Well, aren't you just the good little soldier."_

"Shut up!" Dean snarled at the voice inside his head, "Shut the hell up and leave me alone."

"_You're killing yourself, you know that right? You're using far too much energy to fight me and you're not giving your body time to heal."_

"Like you care." Dean coughed out, closing his eyes to force back the renewed headache.

"_You're mine Dean, of course I care." _

Dean shivered at the words, wondering if this was how Sam felt when it came to the yellow eyed bastard. Disgusted, sickened, violated?

"_You know who's inside the house, don't you?"_

"No." Dean lied, though he had his suspicions.

"_He knew little Sammy was coming, set the whole thing up. It's a trap Dean. It's a trap and he's got poor little Sammy and oh, the things he's going to do to him."_

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken, "You're lying. Demon's lie and you are freaking lying demon."

"_But what if I'm not?"_

"I don't believe you."

"_Go on. You know you want to. Grab that gift I gave you and plunge it through his heart. Twist it. Turn it. Push it deeper. I'm finally starting to understand how much you need to protect poor little Sammy… but are you really doing that by just sitting here?"_

Dean dragged himself out of the car and moved round to the trunk, "I really don't believe you but if I'm doing this - I'm doing it my way."

He pulled out a gun from the selection, cursing that Sammy had taken his favourite, and checked that it was loaded before closing the trunk and marching off towards the house. He didn't bother checking the van like Sam had, after all if Sam had thought it was all clear then that was good enough for him. The door was still ajar from when Sam and Bobby entered so he pushed it open and closed it fully behind him when he was inside.

"_Can I hear noises upstairs?" _Nex mocked and Dean snarled in reply but moved to the stairs anyway, climbing quickly.

Once at the top of the staircase Dean listened carefully and followed the voices to the office at the end where Sam was anything but trapped.

"I knew you lied to me." Dean hissed at Nex, announcing his arrival.

Sam span around to face him, worried anger crossing his face, "I thought you were staying in the car."

"Changed my mind." Dean growled, pushing himself into the room to stare at the horror stricken doctor.

"Dean?" Doctor Foreman questioned, a lump rising in his throat. Dean Winchester should have been well under Nex's influence by now and yet here he was seemingly in control.

"_Do you remember what he did to you Dean? I know you want to pay him back for that. These headaches you keep getting? Who do you think caused them?"_

"Heya Doc." Dean hissed, lifting up the gun and pointing it at the Doctor. His eyes looked darker as Nex's words shifted and settled in his mind.

"Dean…?" Sam questioned.

The doctor eyed the gun in Dean's hand with a lot more fear than he had Sam's, after all he knew about Dean's reputation and what the boy was capable of and he could see in Dean's eyes what he intended to do.

"Dean… you don't want to do this." The doctor tried.

"Oh, I don't know. You see, thanks to you I've got this demonic voice in my head that really wants to see me kill and I can't see why I shouldn't. So give me one good reason why? Why don't I want to do this?"

Panic rose in the doctor as Dean's finger caressed the trigger, "Because if you do, he'll completely have you and there'll be no going back."

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	36. Yes Sir No Sir Three bags full sir

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

AHHHH!!! I seriously had problems getting this chapter out and I really wasn't sure about it. But it's finally out and I'm finally uploading it. As for the chapter title… I was very tempted to put a certain profanity word in but I didn't think it'd be allowed so I've kept it clean… he he.

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36. Yes Sir. No Sir. Three bags full sir.

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"_Awww would you look at that. He's scared of you Dean my boy. Perfect… now prove him right. Shoot him right between the eyes. Send the coward straight to tell – you know you want to."_ Nex drawled in such a tempting way.

"Shut up." Dean snarled at him, though the others in the room probably thought he was aiming his snarl at the doctor

Sam placed his hand on the end of Dean's gun, forcing him to lower it, "We need information Dean and if what he just said is true… you can't kill him."

Dean's hardened half crazed eyes turned to gaze at Sam's and they softened immediately, becoming that little bit saner, "What does he have to gain from telling us the truth?"

"For starters you might not kill me… I'm not stupid. I know you would and I know Nex would happily let you do it. He only cares about one thing and I think you know what that is. Please…" The doctor begged.

"Stop saying stuff like that! You want to live? You should have thought about that _before_ you put your name down to be a demon groupie." Dean growled.

"There are things that a doctor can't do unless you have certain 'friends' - that's what I am… a Doctor, a scientist, searching for answers. I'm a bad man Dean and I'm not looking for redemption, this is survival. I can see him in your eyes – pushing you. I'm expandable. I became that way after our little meeting."

"Our little meeting? You freaking messed with my mind! You had no right! I don't need Nex to push me into killing you…"

"Yeah… I kind of noticed that." The Doctor swallowed hard, eyes falling momentarily on the gun and though it was no longer aimed at him, he still felt the intent.

"You've got us listening Doc, so why don't you starting giving us some answers." Sam demanded.

"You have to ask questions if you want the answers to make sense… you never seen 'Hitchhikers'?" Doc smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, 42. I get it. How's this for a question – how the hell do I get Nex out of my head?"

"Out of your head? Close the doors I opened… but that's not gonna help you much."

"Why not?"

"He's not just in your head boy! I'm not the only one who opened up doors."

"Mary?"

"Got it in one."

"What did she do to him?" Bobby interjected.

"Darkened his already dark heart." Dean put a hand on his chest as the Doctor spoke, remembering glimpses of the last time he'd seen Mary. He could feel the burning… or was that just the mark? "Only she won't be so keen to help you."

"And you are?" Sam spat the accusation out at the man.

"I already told you. I don't want to die… and right now he's more of threat to me then Nex. If I give you answers, I live to see another day." The doctor indicated Dean as he spoke, "I don't particularly care how this ends up. Mary however… this is her life. It was her life even before she was born."

"Do you know where she is?" Sam asked, watching carefully for any lies the doctor may tell.

"She's waiting for Nex and his chosen one." The Doctor smiled wickedly as he got the reaction he wanted. Dean tried to push passed Sam to get to the Doctor; his finger was just itching to pull that trigger and the Doctor knew it was dangerous playing with fire but he also knew that the other two hunters in the room would stop Dean.

What he didn't expect was the strong right hook from the eldest hunter doing what Dean and Sam couldn't and it stilled everyone as Bobby rubbed his knuckles and looked at the Doctor in disgust as he stumbled back and nearly fell.

"Where is she?" Bobby growled.

"She's working as a volunteer at the local hospital, working in the children's ward," The Doctor ground out, "She just loves children."

"You're coming with us." Sam said suddenly and shot Bobby a look that ordered him to take care of the Doctor whilst he pushed Dean from the room and dragged him down the stairs.

"I kinda figured you'd say something like that."

"That mouth is gonna get you into real trouble." Bobby warned and grabbed Doc's arm, forcing him to walk and follow the brothers.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean was grumbling miserably about 'imps' and 'faeries' of some kind 'borrowing' stuff and then returning it without his permission. Oh, it wasn't the returning part that angered him; it was the initial borrowing because he had searched through that trunk the other night desperately looking for the exact same pair of handcuffs that Sam managed to pull out within seconds of opening it. Dean looked at him suspiciously but Sam merely shrugged.

So either way, Doctor Bill was handcuffed and shoved into the back of the Impala by Bobby who slid in beside him. They all agreed, that is, Sam, Dean and Bobby agreed, Doctor Bill had no say in the matter, that it would be best to travel and stick together. If all went well, they'd collect the truck later and maybe head to a bar or something.

Sam was driving – this time Dean actually protested and it brought a smile to Sam's face, but he still said no and kept tight hold of the keys. Doctor Bill remained quiet in the back whilst Bobby sent him daggers, daring him to move or make a wisecrack but the Doc was quickly learning that it wasn't only Winchesters he had to be wary of. Sam was concentrating on the directions Dean had pulled up on the laptop and twice Dean accidentally mixed his lefts and rights up before cursing and correcting his mistake. But what could you do when you had a demon inside your mind that just would not shut up.

"_We're off to see the wizard."_ Nex sang merrily, _"But the wizard can't do anything can he Dean?"_

Dean just growled under his breath.

"_Oh, so you're ignoring me? That hurts Dean." _He mocked, _"You know Mary is gonna be so pleased to see you. She idolizes you. Give her a chance and she'll do anything for us, for you. They chose her. They chose her to be the one, to be mine. And she should be pissed at you; after all, I don't care what they chose because I chose you. But no, she idolizes you or at least your potential"_

Dean sagged in his seat and took a deep breath, trying to block out the words.

"_Aren't you afraid they'll see Dean? Aren't you afraid they'll notice just how dark you really are? You know what will happen when they do."_

"_Stop with the freaking monologue already!" _Dean screamed inside his mind and tried to go back to concentrating on the directions.

"Left at the end." He whispered – didn't trust his voice to be strong enough to say it much louder.

"_I've been very lenient with you so far Dean. I've let you have your fun but you are really starting to piss me off." _A cold shiver ran down Dean's spine as Nex spoke. How did he do that? How did Nex manage to sound so much like his father, when ordering or reprimanding him? And how the hell did he make Dean feel guilty for shouting at the demon, for disobeying him?

"_Now when we get to this hospital, you are going to take that knife inside with you and you are going to slit the Doc's throat. You are mine Dean and I will do anything to have your obedience, remember that and think of Sam. Do you hear me?"_

Dean clenched his teeth in defiance, sharp warning pain shooting through his head and across his chest.

"_I said 'do you hear me?'"_ Nex demanded an answer, demanded Dean to listen and obey.

"Yes sir." He answered in a tiny voice.

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	37. Mary, Mary

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

And another new chapter! Woohoo… got part of the next chapter wrote so I know the direction we're headed. :D Anyway – Thanks so far for the support through this story.

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37. Mary, Mary

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"What you say Dean?" Sam asked, turning his head a little to quickly glance at his brother, sure he'd heard him speak.

"Huh? Nothing." Dean lied, his gaze quickly averted.

Neither brother saw the looks on the faces of the men in the back, Bobby had narrowed his eyes at Dean having heard exactly what the elder Winchester had said and the Doc had a smirk on his face and a malicious glint in his eyes.

Dean cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had fallen, "Turn left right at the end."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

After grabbing the appropriate fake IDs and hiding several weapons underneath clothing, including a certain knife that neither Bobby nor Sam saw Dean pick up, they were headed into the hospital, Doc in tow.

With Dean still being extremely agitated and on edge it was Sam's job to ask where the paediatrics ward was. Second floor, couple of feet away from the stairs and bang, there you have it. They followed the directions and as soon as they walked through those swinging doors, a bright face greeted them and Sam had to keep a hold of Dean as he tried to throw himself at the woman.

"Can I help you?" She asked innocently.

"How bout you go f..." Dean started but Sam quickly covered Dean's mouth and the last few words were nothing but a mumble against Sam's hand.

"Sorry?" The woman narrowed her eyes in confusion and Sam had to admit that if it wasn't for that glint in her eyes, it would have looked very sincere.

"We're looking for a volunteer by the name of Mary." Sam said, watching carefully for her reaction.

"I'm the only Mary on this ward." She replied cheerfully, "So you must be looking for me."

"Then you know why we're here?" Sam frowned, unsure what game she was playing.

"I know exactly why you're here."

"Ahh, you son of a…" Sam growled, quickly removing his hand from Dean's mouth, "You bit me!"

Dean waved a hand in dismissal at his brother and turned his attention to Mary, "You're gonna close whatever goddamn doors you opened, you _and_ the Doc."

Mary peered around the brothers and pulled a mock face of sadness when she saw Bobby keeping tight hold of the Doc, "Awww Bill, you went and got yourself caught and you've been spreading tales."

"They're very persuasive." The Doc winked at Mary and earned himself a painful shoulder squeeze from Bobby,

"Guess you better come through to the private room. I'm sure you don't want the children to know what's going on." She shook her head gently as she spoke and led them away.

The room she led them into was a small room with several chairs and a couple of tables with magazines; it even had a few toys in one of the corners. Sam remembered seeing a few rooms like this when he was younger, especially when Dean had gone hunting with their Dad in his early teens but strangely the time that stuck out the most was when they were really young and he'd been in a mood with Dean. He'd accidentally pushed his big brother off the jungle gym and Dean had broken his arm because of it. Sam had been crying and blubbering like mad because he thought he'd done something so much worse.

He shook the memory from his head as Mary closed the door behind them and drew the blinds so they had complete privacy, "I know you'd rather do this away from the hospital but at least this way you might be less inclined to act rash."

"Who said anything about acing rash… I mean it's not like I'm gonna kill you or anything." Dean growled.

"_Mary, Mary, quite contrary."_ Nex sang softly, _"How does your garden grow?"_

Dean ignored the voice and tried to focus on Mary who was speaking again, "You might as well get it over with because I won't help you. Why would I? I've nothing to gain, besides you've already lost."

"_With silver knives and human lives, and little dead girls in a row."_

"You get to live." Sam offered.

"_You like the rhyme Dean?" _Nex teased, _"Tell me if you know this one."_

Dean closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. It was hard trying to listen to two conversations at once.

"_Through the darkness came the pleas, the screams of misery." _

"Live? Hah! You wouldn't kill me. What good would it do?"

"_He falters not and walks ahead for all these souls are lost and dead."_

Sam took a step towards Mary and she raised an eyebrow, "Maybe death is too good for you but I'll damn well make you suffer."

Mary smiled and looked Sam up and down before reaching around her back and pulling out a very deadly looking knife, in one quick movement, she grabbed Sam's arm and twisted and pushed it halfway up his back, holding the knife to his throat. Sam cursed, caught off guard, not expecting her to have a weapon.

"_The triumph in his bitter eyes shine brighter than the moon."_

"You were given an order Dean and as far as I can see, you're not carrying it out." Mary smiled, pressing the blade against Sam's neck a little harder, drawing blood, "You were also given a warning and unless you want your precious Sammy dead, you'll do as you were told."

"Dean? What's she talking about?" Sam tried his best to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat but it caused his skin to rub against the knife.

"_Little does this demon know that dawn shall bring his doom."_

"Dean…" Bobby warned and Dean took a step backwards away from Sam and Mary and towards Bobby and the Doc, "Don't you do it Dean."

"You're not scared all of a sudden are you Dean?" The Doctor mocked.

"_You cannot kill a fallen one, they will not wilt and die."_

Dean tried to breath but it was getting far too hot in this room and he was running out of options. Mary had Sam and she wasn't the type to hesitate in doing something bad to get what she wanted, if he didn't at least make a move to slit the doctors throat then she'd slit Sam's… but if he did kill the Doc, then what? What would happen to him?

_Damn it! _He screamed in his mind and he pulled the Doc away from Bobby with one hand as he pulled the knife out with another, and moved into a position that mirrored Mary's and Sam's. Sam was smart, Sam could fix whatever happened to him but Dean couldn't fix Sam being dead if she slit his throat.

The doctor wrapped a cold hand around Dean's and forced him to push the knife that little bit closer to his neck so that the Doc had a cut on his neck just like Sam's and as he did, he whispered, "But strip them of their very essence and watch them as in pain they writhe."

Dean tried to pull his hand back a little but the Doc's grip was firm and when Dean looked into the Doc's eyes, he saw them swirl with a deep green, in very much the same way the yellow eyed Demon's swirled with yellow.

"They didn't just strip me of my essence." Nex spoke using the Doc's voice, "They split it, ripped it apart. They ripped it into five to be exact."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	38. Thou Shalt Not Kill

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

I'm a bad person… I deserve to be punished. I haven't updated in ages… haven't been able to get down to some serious writing but here we are and can you hear the crescendo? Yeah… yeah… I know, just shut up and let us read the story 'cause you took so damn long to update but let me tell you – you probably owe this update to me being too afraid to sleep for fear of freaky little cuddly teddy bears singing 'Teddy Bear's Picnic' entering and taunting me in my dreams… okay, long story… well, no it's not… but it's too late to explain, lol.

Anyway, please enjoy! Thank you for your patience!!!!

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.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

38. Thou Shalt Not Kill

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mary's smile became wicked and twisted as she listened, she never noticed her grip on Sam loosening but Sam did, though he knew better than to act so soon. They needed information and it seemed that Nex himself was here to give it up freely.

"Why five?" Dean asked, still trying to pull his hand away.

"Because it's so easily split that way." He shrugged, "You see, there is my life force which was given to a dying child."

Dean shook his head and glanced at the scene in front of him, he refused to meet anybody's eyes as Sam and Bobby looked towards him.

"Then there is my desire." Nex continued and as he did, Dean felt a searing pain in his guts reminding him of where the knife had been dug in.

"And my mind." Dean nearly bit his tongue as he tried to fight against the flash of pain that ignited another headache and he heard an echo of a memory, remembering the Doc's little 'procedure'.

"And my heart." Dean winced as he remembered lying half conscious in that bed with Mary holding a hand on his chest and pain flared up deep in his chest as his heart pounded at the memory. "And yes, demons do have hearts. Not exactly pure but they're there."

Bobby ground his teeth together as he listened to Nex and watched the fear and pain glistening in Dean's eyes. Dean was obviously piecing the words together, even if Bobby didn't understand… unless the demon meant… but no… that was impossible.

"Didn't you start to wonder why it just kept getting harder and harder to resist? Because each time a little bit more of me was going into you…"

"Wh… what's the last?" Dean stammered, unsure he even wanted to know the answer.

"My sins." Nex smirked and pressed Dean's hand more so the knife sliced a little into the throat, "Which is why it is so fitting that you kill me… well, the Doc here actually '… just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all sinned.'"

"And then what? You'll… you'll possess me?"

"No! Never! As much as I would want to, I mean who wouldn't? You would be my right hand man so to speak… you would be the knife that I wield… but for now, I need to get all the pieces in one place and where better?"

Dean felt himself go slack, the only reason he was still standing was because Nex was keeping him up. Everything he'd been through had all been planned, it was all leading to this moment, so that Nex would have his weapon and his essence back together and it didn't matter what Dean did.

"Dean?" Sam questioned, frowning when he saw that raging fire in Dean's eyes go dim.

"So what do you say Dean? Slit my throat and become who you're meant to be or try and fight it and get Sammy's throat slit in the process?" Nex taunted.

But Dean didn't reply, mind too chaotic to take it all in. Everything sounded muffled, his vision blurred, he was losing himself. He looked up lazily, eyes catching the unfocused but worried face of Sam who was mouthing something to him but he couldn't make it out, the blood was pounding in his ears, heart thumping, breathing hard. He was just some demon's bitch? After everything? That's what was meant for him? No. No.

"No."

"What did you say?" Nex demanded, eyes narrowing.

"I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone. You can take you're freaking essence and shove it where the freaking sun don't shine 'cause I don't want it! I don't want any of it! Any of this! So get the hell out of my mind and out of me!" Dean growled dangerously, fire coursing through his veins, anger flaring.

"You want you're precious Sammy to die?" Mary asked, dumbfounded.

"You hurt him and I'll kill you. I swear." Dean promised, turning his gaze on her.

Sam smiled at his brother, taking a deep breath; this was the Dean he knew. He looked over at Dean who was staring determinedly at Mary and Sam realised he could feel Mary's heart pounding in her chest and could feel her body trembling, she was scared. She had good right to be because in one swift and calculated move, Sam grabbed her arm and pulled the knife away from his throat, twisting her around so she was now in front of him with the knife pressed against hers.

"Let him go." Sam commanded.

Nex looked down at the knife and then up at Sam, "He's the one that's got me."

"Let him go." He repeated.

"Or what? She means nothing to me. Just like this shell means nothing to me. The only thing that's important is my weapon."

Dean tensed, every time he tried to pull away; he felt his body going numb, unable to complete the task.

"I won't give him up. Not when I'm so close. He's mine."

"No, he's ours." Bobby snarked, clicking his tongue slightly and stepping into the scene, he brought his gun up to the Doc's temple, "Now let him go or I will blow your hosts brains out."

Swirling green eyes met Bobby's and Nex snarled, who did these people think they were? Trying to take away what was rightfully his? "That'll buy you what? Ten minutes at the most? And then I'll just possess one of those kids out there and I'd love to see you take one of them down."

"Try me."

"You want my host to die that badly?" The smile on the Doc's lips was so wrong that Bobby wondered just what Nex was thinking.

Before he had chance to react though, before _any_ of them had a chance to react, Nex tightened his grip on Dean's wrist and guided the knife swiftly across the Doc's throat. Dean yelped, pain spiking up his arm, and finally managed to pull away as blood pooled from the open wound and the Doc's eyes went dim and his body fell to the ground.

Dean stared down as the knife dropped numbly from his hands and he took several steps back, taking deep uneven breaths. He looked up helplessly at Sam, eyes pleading, "I… I couldn't stop him… it doesn't… it doesn't count… right?"

"You held the knife that did it. Of course it counts." Mary nodded, overjoyed at what she'd seen, "I never really liked Bill much anyway - he was annoying."

"Shut your mouth bitch!" Dean growled at her, his body shaking so much that he had to lean against the wall to steady himself.

"Dean, come on, we've got to get out of here." Sam's voice was barely a whisper, worry and shock taking all his strength, "Bobby…"

"I got it." Bobby replied before Sam even had chance to utter the request, bending down to pick the bloodied knife up. He looked over at Dean and held his arm out in an offer for support.

Dean shook his head, body still trembling. He backed away from Bobby, sliding along the wall, "You can't… what if I… what if…"

"Dean, you're coming with us. You're going to be fine. I promise." Bobby growled, inching closer, arm still held out.

"You can't trust me." Dean said simply, shaking his head.

"I trust you with my life boy, now get your damn ass over here before I tear you a new one." Bobby threatened.

Dean looked down at the dead doctor and then at his shaking hands. There was no blood on them; he'd been released too quickly for the blood to reach his hands, so why did he see them stained with the sickly crimson liquid when he looked at them? Why could he taste the metallic and coppery taste of blood in his mouth?

"Dean, come on." Sam growled from near the door, still keeping tight hold of Mary, "I can here people outside."

Dean lifted his head and tilted it to the side, eyes a swirling mix of green, mouth twisted into a sinister smirk. Sam took a deep breath and cursed, this week was just getting better and better.

"You said you weren't going to possess him." Bobby pointed out but the demon spared him no thought, the green eyes landing on Mary who began to squirm in Sam's hold.

"No! You can't." She pleaded, "It should be the other way around! You can't!"

The eyes looked her up and down, studying her before Dean… no, it wasn't Dean, it was Nex… shrugged and headed straight towards her. She stamped her foot down on Sam's and whether it was out of shock that his possessed brother was coming straight at him or because of the pain but he released her and before he could regain his grip, she was in Dean's… arms. She began sobbing, still trying to pull away but Dean… no, Nex… moved one hand up and gripped the back of her neck and though she didn't stop struggling, she did fall silent.

And then Dean leant in, one deep and passionate kiss that she didn't return at first but then she brought her own hand up to the back of his neck and Sam noticed that it was no longer her struggling to break away, but Dean. And when the kiss did end and Dean had managed to pull out of it, his eyes had returned to their normal colour as they sent daggers towards Mary.

"Best damn kiss I've ever had." Mary laughed, still keeping her hand on the back of Dean's neck. Dean snarled at her but she only smiled back, eyes a soft glowing green, "Guess I'm back in the game properly now."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	39. Sit… Paw… Beg… Good boy

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

My muse abandoned me! Blame my muse… not me… please? Well, I kinda lost my track on writing for a little bit but I'm back and yeah… this story is definitely coming to a close, should be fun… hopefully.

So! Okay boys and girls, now that we're up to chapter 39 and nearing the end, I think it's time for a recap of this little never-ending tale!

_Recap_

_The Winchester boys were on a job researching several cases of where people disappeared for various intervals before reappearing again – the main link the case was the old school. So whilst Sam was still researching, the brave and albeit extremely reckless Dean went to investigate the school only to find out it was a trap – for him! Before being rescued by the slightly fed up younger brother, who knew it was a bad idea in the first place (but since when to older brothers listen?), Dean was branded and given some sort of concoction that brought back memories of the pretty reaper Tess along with his decision to either remain on Earth as a ghost or to move on._

_After his little encounter with a young and evil woman, later revealed as Mary, she keeps popping up in his dreams and the brothers then find out about a group called the Death Markers from a scared bookshop owner and travel to Bobby's for more information. Whilst at Bobby's, Sammy had a vision of Dean being stabbed which later came true… leaving a strange slightly ritualistic knife in the boy's possession which kind of acted like a trigger for bringing out dark desires that Dean never knew he had._

_After acting on dark instincts, Dean attacks Sam which results in Sam accidentally reopening the knife wound and Dean needing to be rushed to the hospital where he is promptly kidnapped… or Dean-napped… whichever suits you… and as Sammy desperately searches for him – even calling Bobby for help – Mary and a weird Doctor are doing several disturbing 'things' to Dean in order to 'open him up' for Nex – a demon who is then revealed to have been stripped of his essence and then promised a child… the child turning out to be Dean. _

_When Bobby and Sam rescue Dean for what's got to be the umpteenth time in this story, 'cause God do I like putting that boy in trouble, they decide to try and pick up a trail, starting at the 'Psychiatric Hospital' where they follow a black van back to the home of the Doctor from before. And then the Doctor takes the hunters to Mary and once there, Nex reveals himself, explaining how Dean's body has been gathering his 'essences' and then after Nex makes Dean kill the doctor, he takes over Dean's body only to kiss Mary and enter hers… leaving us at the point I left y'all._

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39. Sit… Paw… Beg… Good boy

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It took several moments for Dean to become aware that he had actually been momentarily possessed and then a few minutes before he realised the demon had been passed on and then it took mere seconds for him to become conscious of what was happening around him now.

Nex flicked Mary's head backwards and in that one simple move, Sam was sent crashing into the door and remained glued to it, helpless and unable to move. As Bobby surged forwards, ready to attack Mary, Nex waved a hand of dismissal that led to Bobby being thrown into the wall opposite the door, where he too remained unable to move.

"Now then - to business." Nex spoke, turning his attention back to Dean, "Dean…"

"Don't listen to a word he says Dean." Sam called, cutting Nex short.

"I should have killed you… I _should_ kill you now." Nex span around to face Sam, raising a hand threateningly but before he had a chance to strike, Dean caught Mary's arm and spun the possessed woman back round.

"You don't want Sam. You want me. Leave him and Bobby be and I'll walk out with you right now." Dean offered, pleaded, begged…

"Not good enough." Nex smiled and looked Dean up and down.

"Then what?" Dean frowned, "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Your loyalty and service."

"I said I'd go with you." Dean reinstated, confusion ebbing through him.

"You see, I know you would but once we left this hospital, what then? You rebel, refuse to follow orders? You're a good soldier Dean; you're an excellent hunter, one of the best. Your Dad would be so proud. I want you to follow my orders like you followed his but I'm not naïve – I know you better than you think."

"Then you know that if you hurt my brother there will be no place on earth or even in hell that could keep you hidden from me…" Dean threatened.

"And that's exactly what I like about you Dean, so much fire. You just need some help directing it. I can taste your desires you know; those guilty little pleasures of yours. Come on Dean… You need this."

"I said I'd go." Dean repeated, turning his head away so he didn't have to look the demon in the eye.

"Dean…" Sam started, looking on hopelessly at his brother. His words were cut short as his felt the force holding him still release him for just mere seconds before gripping him again and throwing him across the room towards Bobby, where he landed in a heap on the floor. He lifted his head up to see the demon opening the door for Dean, holding Mary's arm out in an 'after you' sense.

Dean's insides twisted as he saw his brother being thrown and he opened his mouth in protest but words refused to form so he resorted to glaring hard at the ground whilst moving towards the door.

"Don't you dare Dean! Don't you leave with him!" Sam shouted; pushing himself up from the ground and groaning as pain coursed through his aching body.

"Or what Sammy?" Dean asked, pausing for a second but too afraid to look back at his disappointed brother, "You'll kick my ass? You'll disown me? Kill me? Hate me? You'll what Sammy?"

Sam swallowed hard, hating the break in his brother's voice, the slight tremor that he tried to hide, "Please Dean…"

"I'm sorry."

And the door closed behind him.

"Dean…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean stood outside the door, still staring at the ground knowing he was going to regret what he was doing and hoping that Sam wouldn't give up on him and that he and Bobby would find a way to save him. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Nex closed the door and left his hand on the handle for an unnecessary amount of time before straightening Mary's clothes.

"Come on then." He spoke, lips spreading wide into a malicious grin which echoed evil intent, "Let's go play."

Dean said nothing; just let his arms hang loosely by his side whilst he followed Nex – an obedient servant for whatever tasks he had planned… anything to stop him from hurting Sam.

"I'm gonna set you free Dean." Nex said softly, as if trying to comfort him, "You were meant for much greater things then this Dean."

_Better hurry your ass up and me the hell out of this Sammy… before I end up doing something really… wrong._ Dean thought, barely able to keep the knot, forming in his throat, from choking him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

As soon as the door closed, Bobby fell to the ground next to Sam and growled something under his breath that sounded like 'Damn Winchesters'. Sam was already up on his feet and was at the door in a matter of seconds, stumbling over himself as he went, but as he reached out to the door handle, he immediately recoiled, pain pulsing through his hand.

"It's hot…" Sam explained, looking towards Bobby for more insight.

"Then give it a second to cool." The eldest hunter barked and immediately cursed himself for it upon seeing the lost glaze in Sam's eyes, "…I'm sorry… I just… I can't believe he just did that."

"He thought he was helping us."

"And he has but what that thick headed brother of yours needs to realise is that he's the one who needs help."

Sam nodded, stretching out his sleeve so it covered his hand as he went to try the handle again. Strangely though, it was cool to touch and his fingers weaved themselves away from the fabric and around the metal, curving as he tried to twist and pull and turn… but it refused to budge.

"Damn it!" Sam cried out, throwing his shoulder into the door, "Son of a bitch has gone at melted it or something!"

"Shift." Bobby said simply and Sam looked at his questioningly before moving to the side, allowing Bobby a clear shot at the door. One swift movement, which made Sam wonder if this was who Dean had learned it from, and Bobby booted the door as hard as possible. The frame shook the first time but by the third attempt the door was open and the hunters were out the room.

"And now we find out where Mary lives." Bobby answered Sam's unsaid question whilst ignoring the stares and glares from the people in the corridor.

Sam was thankful that Bobby was taking control of the situation, his mind too unfocused with colliding thoughts and worry over Dean. He walked with Bobby, keeping his eyes averted from on-lookers, and headed towards the hospital map.

"Human Resources?" Sam asked, understanding what Bobby was looking for.

"Or just a computer linked to it… you're the wiz with that stuff, you know what we need more than I do."

"Yeah… computer linked to it will be fine." Sam looked at the map, eyes tracing the passages before finding a room close by, he pointed to it and looked at Bobby, "There should be one in there."

"Then let's get going."

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	40. Thin line between right and wrong

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Hello! Thanks for all those wonderful reviews! And thanks for lurkers who just read too!

Anyway – for those who read Lucifer and Abomination, they haven't been abandoned, I promise. I'm working on their next chapters but they're not coming out quite right yet. So I'm thinking of getting this story finished so I can focus on both of them – hope you enjoy!

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40. There's a thing line between right and wrong…

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The two exited the hospital and Dean spared a longing glance at his precious black baby as it watched him from the car park, but Nex led him away from it, speaking so gently that Dean could barely hear him.

"No, this way Dean. We're taking Mary's car. Don't think I don't know that they can track yours."

"And where are we going?" Dean hissed, anger flaring once more.

"To see an old friend."

He looked up at Nex with a blank expression and Nex answered his unasked questions with out being prompted, "Well enemy really. He's a hunter a couple of states over. You're gonna kill him."

"Why would I?" Defiance burning brightly.

"I knew you'd say that. Didn't I tell you? I knew you'd act this way. You wanna know why? Because if you don't kill him, _he'll_ kill Sammy; not me, not my demons – _him._"

"Why would he do that? He's a hunter. A good guy… He'd have no reason to…"

"His name's Gordon Walker. Think about it Dean." Nex smiled, looking over at Dean over the roof of the green car. "Door's open, you can get in now."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"They're not here Bobby. They haven't _been_ here. So how the hell are we going to find them?" Sam declared angrily, after closing the apartment door behind him.

Security had been rough at the hospital but he and Bobby had been able to find what they were looking for before the guys turned up and 'escorted' them from the building – that was before the body was found, by which time the hunters were at the door and had to make a break for it before they were detained for questioning.

"Sam… we'll find them but in the mean time if we can find some answers – that would really help. Like what Nex has planned or how we can get rid of him." Bobby sighed, glancing around the apartment. Sam was right; they'd both kept their eyes peeled ever since turning onto Mary's street and there had been no sign of Dean or the possessed woman and now they were in the apartment, there was still nothing.

Sam picked up a spare set of keys from the table beside the door, jingled them twice then let them fall back down with a clatter before his eyes swept over the main room. It was empty. He didn't know what he expected but when he thought about it, it made sense it'd be empty. There were a few pieces of old furniture – probably meant she was renting pre-furbished, best when you're staying in town too long to stop in a motel but not long enough to make an actual home for yourself.

From the corner of his eye he saw Bobby disappear behind one of the doors, leaving it open to reveal a less spacious room that looked like it could be the bedroom. A few clothes littered the floor; dust gathered and clung to empty shelves and Sam made his way through the cold and unsettling apartment towards Bobby.

Blinding pain shot through his skull as quick as lightning, illuminating everything and darkening it all at the same time. Then there were flashes of images, jerking and fading in and out before they became a steady stream, like a mini movie, that cancelled out his surroundings.

_It was dark and there was a green car speeding away down a clear road - just that one single car and no others. It was occupied by two people and one quick glance gave him the opportunity to take in their appearances - both determined and silent, one with a triumphant flare in his eyes, the other with a defiant and reluctant flare in his. _

_The car sped past a town sign, fancy lettering covering a dirt clod board._

"_You are now entering Dirkitsville. Enjoy your stay."_

_And then the car was passed the sign and zooming down the road before swiftly turning off at a point that could only lead to a farm – that's if there actually were any farms out here._

_A flash – and the image changed. The car was slowing down, coming to a stop outside an old farm. Lights glowed dimly through the windows, shadows passing occasionally indicating that someone was inside. A familiar red car stood alone, not too far from where the other two had parked and a skulking figure began to make his way around the perimeter of the house._

_Stealthily, exercising extreme caution, the two from the green car climbed out and followed the figure._

_Another flash – and image changed again. The skulking figure was no longer skulking. He was on his knees, bloody and bruised staring up with fear and hatred._

"_You gonna kill me Dean?" He spat blood onto the ground in front of him, "Kill a human?"_

"_You're no human. You're no better than the things we hunt."_

"_Neither are you."_

"_I know."_

_And then the once reluctant man swung once and swiftly, staring blankly as the silent head rolled on the floor, dead eyes unfocused._

_FLASH._

And he was back, Bobby's firm hands steadying him. He looked up and realised he was nearly flat on the floor, he'd probably banged his head going down, unless Bobby had got their in time to stop that.

"What the hell Sam?" He ground out, slowly releasing his grip, "You okay?"

"Gordon…" Sam whispered, eyes widening in understanding. He swallowed hard and jumped to his feet as quickly as his pounding head would allow, pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair.

"What?"

"Nex… he hunts hunters, right? And he's going after Gordon Walker…"

"Walker? Sounds familiar… specialises in vamps if he's the one I think you mean…?" Bobby frowned, watching carefully as Sam paced.

"Yeah, regular Buffy."

"What's he got to do with your 'vision'?"

"He tried to kill me last time me and Dean saw him."

Bobby growled, frowning as he made sense of what Sam was implying, "So you think if Nex is gonna persuade Dean to kill someone he'll start with this Walker?"

"Last time we saw Gordon… when Dean saw what he'd… he would have killed him there and then Bobby, finished the job to make sure there was no way he could have tried again. And now… with Nex messing with his mind – I don't know…"

"Dean killed him? In this 'vision'?"

"Yeah… only my visions are nearly always connected to _the_ demon or the others like me… and earlier he helped me find Dean… why? Why would he do that?" Sam stopped pacing and turned towards Bobby, eyes pleading and Bobby had to look away.

"Bobby?"

Bobby bit his lip and walked towards the bedroom, "I found a book, old one by the looks of it. Full of the same stuff from the one back in my truck."

"And…?"

"And it would explain why he's helping." Bobby handed the book to Sam, opening it at the right page and waited for Sam's reaction.

"But Bobby… this says… no way Bobby."

"It explains why the tricky bastard doesn't wanna possess Dean too."

"We can't… there has to be something else."

Bobby shook his head and looked at the book, "The only way we can kill Nex is when he's inside Dean… and that means killing Dean as well."

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	41. Dirkitsville

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-. **

Hi! Wanna say thanks for sticking with me! Especially since I'm slow on my updating at the mo', he he. Don't know, just in a writing slump. Anyway, got an update for you and I hope you enjoy. :D Sorry for the slow update.

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41. Dirkitsville

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Dean sat in silence in the passenger seat like a sulking teenager; staring blankly out the window and watching the scenery go by. _Tree. Tree. 'Nother tree. Blank patch. Tree._ He willed himself to watch and concentrate on that rather than think about how much more his life had been screwed up over the past couple of months. And now he was riding in a fugly car driven by a possessed woman and all that kept coming back to him was now was his chance. He could kill Gordon and make sure no other damn hunters found out about Sam. He could keep Sam safe. The only thing that stopped him from killing Gordon sooner was Sam and now he was miles upon miles away.

"Why so quiet?" Nex asked, glancing sideways at Dean, head cocked slightly to the side as if he was actually curious.

"You just told me to kill someone, what the hell do you expect?"

"I'm _asking_ you to kill an enemy."

"A human!" Dean ground out.

"That's never stopped you before."

Dean fell silent, remembering the lives he'd taken and the lives he hadn't saved and the lives sacrificed for his.

"Suit yourself Dean; I'm giving you an easy start here. I could just pull up at the next gas station and ask for directions to Harvelle's Roadhouse and we could start there."

"What?"

"Of course we'll go there eventually but I'm trying to be nice by not taking you there right away… and then there's little Sammy and Bobby and what's her name… one of the states… oh yeah, Missouri – not really a hunter but she's helped a few. They're all gonna die Dean but I'm making it easier for you by keeping them alive just that little bit longer."

"How chivalrous of you." Dean snarled.

"There should be a gas station in a couple of miles…" The demon taunted.

"Where is he?" Dean forced himself to ask, knowing that the demon wanted his attention.

"Right now… not too sure, some old dirty bar probably but sometime in the next few hours he's gonna visit a nest."

"A nest? Of vampires?"

"I thought you knew the guy Dean?"

"Just thought…"

"He might be looking for revenge? Oh, he is but why quit your day job, eh? Especially when you enjoy it so much."

"And what about you and revenge? Who do you want revenge on?"

Nex smiled, "Oh, they've already had centuries of burning in hell with plenty more to come."

Dean turned back to stare out the window, throat clenching and chest tightening. This was beyond screwed up – so far beyond screwed up that Dean could only think of one world that might begin to describe the situation he was in. FUBAR.

Sunset came and went and Dean spent most of the time in silence, waiting and watching. His eyes fell on a sign that he barely had time to read - _"You are now entering Dirkitsville. Enjoy your stay." _

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Dirkitsville? What the hell type of hick town is that?"

"It's the one where Dean is gonna kill Gordon unless we can get there before him." Sam sighed, one hand on the wheel and one hand clenching his mobile as he drove ahead of Bobby.

"And this ain't gonna be easy is it?" Bobby growled.

"Thing is Gordon looked like he was hunting and that means when we get there we might have vampires to deal with too."

"Why did I get myself involved in this?"

_'Cause you love Dean like he's your own son. _Sam thought, knowing that Bobby was more than just some close friend. They were family even without the blood bond. "'Cause you're a sucker Bobby."

"Ain't I just?" Bobby sighed and watched the sleek black Impala ahead of him, "You got a plan or you just gonna turn up and kidnap Dean?"

"Kidnapping sounds good. He doesn't want this and I can't let him… we're gonna stop him and we're gonna get rid of Nex _without_ hurting Dean."

"I know that and I understand but when he finds out – you know he's a self sacrificing bastard…"

"Then he won't find out. We'll just find another way."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dean barely noticed the hidden dirt road at the side, but he knew as soon as he saw it that it would be where they were going. Vampires liked to be just a little bit reclusive. The headlights were dimmed and then turned off completely as they drew closer to the old farm house that was lit up like a party was in full throw. The car pulled to a stop and Dean begrudgingly clambered out and followed Nex, eyes falling on a distant figure.

Gordon twisted closer to house, sliding down beneath the window so as not to be seen by the farm house occupants. Light glinted off the machete in his hand as he readjusted his grip and Dean watched with extreme caution, fully aware of his surroundings as his mind automatically switched to hunter. Each step was near silent, his breathing slowed and the way he held his body was ready for both offensive and defensive moves. He was ready for a fight.

Gordon reached the back door and was about to grab the handle when Dean grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"Miss me?" He grinned, his reactions quick enough to block the arm that held the machete, any slower and his head would have been taken clean off.

"Dean Winchester…" Gordon breathed, relaxing slightly but still cautious, "What you doing here?"

"Doing a little hunting."

"Where's Sammy boy?" His eyes searched the surroundings and on finding himself alone with Dean a smile crossed his face, "He shown his true colours?"

"You don't get to call him that. You don't get to talk about him at all." Dean felt his grin spreading as the rage built up inside him, remembering all too well the time Gordon had tried to kill his brother.

_"… if you don't kill him, _he'll _kill Sammy; not me, not my demons –_ him_." _Nex's words flashed through his mind once more and before Gordon had chance to prepare himself, Dean sent his fist flying, forcefully sending Gordon's head backwards so it crashed against the wall.

"You're gonna pay for what you tried to do to my brother." Dean growled and threw his fist again, this time knocking Gordon out cold.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam looked towards the horizon in front, wondering how much time they had left until morning and praying that they got to that farm before the sun rose. His eyes landed on a board just off to the side of the road and his heart leapt, agitation running through his system as his foot pressed a little harder on the gas.

"You are now entering Dirkitsville." Sam read the sign and breathed in a small sigh of relief. At least now they were now in the same town as Dean, all that was left was to find that farm house.

He slowed the car and searched the trees for any hidden roads and paths, he barely noticed as Bobby pulled up beside him and rolled his window down.

"This the place then?" Bobby asked when Sam eventually mirrored the movement.

"Yeah… somewhere along here there'll be another road leading off to a farm." Sam glanced at his watch and then towards the sky, "But I don't know how long we have."

"We'll worry about time if we don't make it. Right not just keep your eyes pealed… remember,_ you_ know what we're looking for."

Sam nodded, his mind wandering back to the vision and to the thrill he'd felt rolling off from Dean when he'd took that swing. They needed to get there in time. They needed to make it before Dean was lost to them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	42. Tick Tock Tick Tock

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Woohoo! I have an update! I hope this satisfies you while I'm off doing more writing. :D

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42. Tick tock tick tock

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam barely even saw the side road and if he hadn't slowed down he'd have missed it completely. From the corner of his eye, he caught Bobby performing a quick U-turn so he was once again following the young Winchester. His phone began to vibrate on the seat next to him and he hastily picked it up.

"Take it we're nearly there." Bobby asked from the other end of the line.

"Don't know how far it is from here, probably half a mile." He answered, hope and fear swelling up in him.

"Half a mile is nothing Sam. We'll make it."

"I know."

And within minutes Sam saw the lights glowing through the windows of the large farm house and quickly turned off his headlights, noticing Bobby do the same. He pulled up as gently and neatly as he could in a spot that made sure the car and truck would remain hidden in shadows.

As he stepped out of the car, the sound of the heavy metal door creaking in the still night air, he noticed two other cars. One he recognised to be Gordon's and the other one for all he knew could have belonged to the vampires or it could be the car from his vision with Dean. A quick glance around told him if Dean was still there then he wasn't out front which meant they would have to search the grounds.

"We need to check around the house, see if we can find them without us being spotted." Sam whispered, gazing up at the house with apprehension.

"Quickest way would be you go left and I go right, we meet around back."

"Sure it's a good idea to split up?"

"Probably not but we need to get this done before trouble starts stirring." Bobby replied sternly, setting off in his direction around the house, leaving Sam to go left.

The windows were firmly closed but whatever party the vampires were having was still loud enough for the hunters to hear, causing them to cringe and flinch at every sudden noise that meant possible danger. Both made it around back without incident easily, but also without any signs of Dean. There were footprints and indents on the ground but it was too dark to make them out properly and too risky to use a flashlight.

Sam sighed deeply as he rounded the last corner and after catching sight of Bobby's disappointed face peering around the edge, Sam was beginning to feel it was useless. And then he froze.

The back door creaked open and a heavy footed man stepped out onto the step. He looked human but then again, most vampires did when they weren't feeding or threatening someone. He held a smoke in his had and took a deep drag from it before sitting down on the wooden surface.

A quick glance at Bobby told Sam that they'd have to circle back round front to meet, Dean wasn't here so why put themselves in danger? Sam nodded regretfully and edged around the wall, leaning back for a moments support. He felt like just breaking down… or breaking Dean for doing something so stupid in the first place.

He closed his eyes and breathed. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. A relaxing rhythm that was failing to relax him. Frustrated he reopened his eyes and looked out into the darkness, seeing for the first time a ray of hope.

It was actually a ray of light from what looked like an ajar barn door.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Gordon Walker was pissed and confused and in serious pain. Kneeling on the floor, head bent forwards he swallowed hard and looked down at the deep slash across his lower arm that had evidently woken him up. He flexed his fingers and hissed as a fresh wave of pain was sent shooting up his arm.

"You've lost your freaking mind!" He cried out at the angry Winchester in front of him, "What the hell happened to you? I thought you were one of the good guys."

"I thought I was too…" Dean sighed, looking down at the knife he'd used to slice Gordon's arm. It felt wrong in his grasp… it was just a knife… but it wasn't _his_ knife.

"So you have lost it then?" Gordon laughed, staring up at his foe.

"Probably." Dean answered simply before motioning the cut he'd made, "You know why I did that?"

"Should I?"

"That's where you cut Sammy… albeit it wasn't as nasty as the one you've got now, but still…"

"So this is payback?"

"Yes and no…" Dean smiled, a smile that just didn't fit, didn't look right because it was evil, malicious. He put the knife against Gordon's neck, forcing the man to look up even higher, "It's my way of making sure you'll _never_ hurt Sam again."

"And how you gonna do that?"

The knife moved quickly, slicing the skin beneath Gordon's chin just deeply enough to draw blood. With his spare hand, Dean formed a fist which collided with Gordon's left cheek. It was hard enough to send Gordon back down the floor and to crack a couple of teeth in the process.

As Gordon pulled himself back onto his knees, head pounding, Dean moved over to a table where he'd placed the machete. He slid the knife onto the surface next to it and picked it up, feeling its weight in his hand he swung once and then looked back towards Gordon.

Gordon eyed the weapon apprehensively, feeling the bile rise up in his throat to mix with the blood that was already in his mouth. He spat the deep crimson blood onto the floor and laughed, "You gonna kill me Dean? Kill a human?"

And this time Dean laughed, "You're no human. You're no better than the things we hunt."

"Neither are you."

Dean nodded; eyes looking down for mere seconds as if he had made up his mind, "I know."

He lifted the machete which fell automatically towards Gordon's neck…

"DEAN!"

And he stopped mid swing. The one person he didn't expect to hear, calling out his name. It had to be a trick. He turned his head around and saw a distraught Sam at the barn entrance.

"Sam?"

"Dean, please… you can't do this. I can't lose you… but if you do this I will."

"I have to…" Dean looked at Sam with a confused expression, truly seeing no way out of it. If he didn't kill Gordon, Gordon would eventually go after Sam and if he didn't get there first… then Nex surely would. But if he kept Nex occupied and sent Gordon to a place he would never come back from… then there was no other way.

Before Sam or Dean had any more chance to argue about the matter, Gordon was up and diving towards Dean, tackling him to the ground where he immediately lost hold of the machete. Returning his attention to his prey, Dean started to wrestle, quickly gaining the upper hand.

"I went after the wrong Winchester…" Gordon snarled, jumping up from the floor once Dean was off him, "Or maybe both of you need to be put down?"

A gentle click broke the mid floor dance that Gordon and Dean were doing and their attention was brought to the entrance where Bobby stood, pointing a gun in the vampire slayer's direction, "Back away and we won't tie you up and leave you for the vamps 'cause believe me, it won't harm me in anyway to let them do the dirty work."

"What the hell are you both doing here?" Dean asked, eying both Sam and Bobby. Seeing Sam was one thing, but Bobby too?

"What do you think we're doing? We're getting you out of this mess. Now get your ass moving." Bobby answered, growling softly.

"He'll kill you both." Dean said, shaking his head, "I can't let him do that."

"And we can't let you go around damaging your humanity." Bobby reached around back with his free hand and passed Sam a gun, whispering to the younger Winchester, "Found it in the truck. Should do the trick."

Sam nodded and raised the weapon, aiming for the thinnest part of Dean's clothing he fired. Stunned, Dean looked down to see a tiny little dart protruding from his upper leg but before he had chance to pull it out he fell to his knees, dazed and uncertain. Sam was at his side in no time, wrapping an arm around his waist and throwing one of Dean's arms around his neck.

"It's okay Dean, just sleep. We'll be fine."

And Dean had no choice but to obey, darkness taking over his vision as his body went slack.

"Get him out Sam." Bobby ordered, still aiming his gun at Gordon who remained stock still. As soon as Sam and Dean were out the barn, Bobby looked Gordon up and down, "You stay away from them. You stay well away or I swear I'll hunt you down myself. The only reason I don't stop you now is I got more pressing matters."

"They're not on our side anymore."

"They're not on anybodies side. They kill what needs to be killed so stay away before I deem you as 'needing to be killed'." Bobby warned, stepping out of the barn and closing the door behind him.

He followed the brothers quickly and quietly, praying silently and thanking whoever was out there that they had Dean back again and hopefully this time for good.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	43. Deceit

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Hoping for two or three more chapters now after this one - so hope you enjoy!

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43. Deceit

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Closing his eyes, Nex drew another deep drag from the cigarette in his hand and gently blew the smoke from his mouth, allowing it to drift with the cold night breeze. This was better, he decided, rolling the shoulders of his new host. A vampire none the less! Dark eyes stared back through the half open door and at the massacre on the other side.

Blood. Lots of Blood. Vampires liked blood didn't they? They just didn't like it when it was their own being spilled. Damn vermin, that's what vampires were. Disease infested vermin, infecting perfectly good human souls with their inky tar. He hated vampires, almost as much as he hated hunters.

_The enemy of my enemy ain't a friend of mine. _He thought.

But still, even with his hatred of vampires he now had a damn good host. A male. He preferred males, not just because they were known to be less emotional but male just felt right. It was the humans who gave him the damn feminine name Nex, didn't mean he had to wear a bloody female every time he possessed someone.

And he could do that again now – possess. Oh man had he missed that. Watching idly as the world went by without him until he had his chance.

"Dean." He mouthed, taking one last drag before throwing the cigarette butt on the ground, stamping it with his heavy boot before walking off towards the barn where he'd left his prized possession.

At the end of the barn, the hunter they'd came to kill was finally breaking loose of the ropes that bound him and was grumbling as he dusted himself off and stood up. He was just as surprised to see Nex as Nex was to see him.

"You're still alive." Nex frowned, eying the hunter, "Why are you still alive?"

Gordon was in no mood for discussion though, happy to just grab his machete and chop the head off the thing in front of him… he underestimated the speed of the thing though as it rushed at him and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him slowly off the ground, growling as it did so.

"I bet you know exactly what happened." The thing ground out and opened its mouth wide, eyes going dull as a thick black smoke came boiling out and towards the now panicking Gordon who understood that it wasn't just any vampire in front of him…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He could hear a steady pounding somewhere in the distance, just past the edges of consciousness. It was a constant rhythm that he found himself concentrating on, it was kind of relaxing, soft and barely even audible but it was there and he could here it. And then it stopped.

He heard something else instead, a voice… someone he recognised. He couldn't quite understand the words even though he heard them perfectly. The voice sounded loud and frustrated, that much he could make out.

"Sam! Stop pacing the room! It won't do any good. Just relax."

"Relax?" A second voice answered, more distraught then the first but equally frustrated and equally familiar, "How can I? Dean's out cold and there could be a demon showing up at our door any moment now."

"We'll keep moving. Let him rest and as soon as he wakes up, we'll go and move onto another town."

"They'll keep coming. _He'll_ keep coming. He wants Dean to be his and he won't give up. We need to stop him."

"And how do you plan on doing that? The only way we know is to…"

"I know! But that isn't an option. Dean is gonna make it. He'll get through this and he'll be alive when it's all over."

"Then why won't you relax."

A smile crept on his face as he became more lucid, the sounds around him becoming clearer. His tongue made its way across his dry lips and he decided it was time to test his voice, "Could you keep it down? I'm trying to sleep."

"Dean!" Sam called out, rushing to his side instantly, "You gonna wake up man?"

"Not if you gonna shoot me again."

"It was a tranq." Sam laughed, eyes gleaming.

"Not the point. So far you've used salt, a real bullet and now a tranq… what next Sammy, a nuke?"

"That depends on if you open your eyes."

He blinked once and then twice and eventually after another couple of blinks his vision began to clear and he looked around the room. It was just another crappy motel room in God knows what town.

"Where are we?" He asked, pulling himself up and into a seated position.

"Don't know." Bobby shrugged, standing behind Sam, watching Dean carefully, "We just kept driving - probably would have been best if we still were."

Dean pressed the heals of his hands into his eye sockets, rubbing gently as he remembered what happened and he remembered his reasons for doing what he did, "He's gonna come you know… and he's gonna kill you… or he'll get me to do it."

"He has no control over you." Sam stated loudly and carefully, authority echoing through his words that dared Dean to defy him.

But Dean dared alright, "You don't understand. It's not just the threats… there's something else there too. I think he left some of himself still inside me… so he could… when he gives an order…"

"What do you mean? What happens?" Bobby pushed, eyes narrowing.

"He sounds so much like Dad and I can't… I can't…" And Dean's throat tightened, unable to get the words out.

"You can't disobey him? Is that it?" Sam implored, "Talk to me Dean… we need to know."

Dean just shrugged and looked up sadly at his brother, "It wouldn't do much good either way Sam. He'll find us - just a matter of time."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Making his way over the cars around front, he searched his new host's memories, cursing as he saw that damn brother who couldn't just leave things alone. Sam Winchester was a pain in the neck, him and that damn Bobby Singer. He couldn't leave it any longer, if they refused to stop interfering then he'd have to put a stop to them. They'd have to die. Preferably in a painful manner.

He looked up at the cars and frowned. He had two choices, take Mary's car or the hunter's… a smile lit up his face as he pulled out the keys to the sweet red ride. Hunter's it was then.

He could play a little game with them. They wouldn't have a clue that it was him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_This is going to be even harder than we thought._ Sam sighed, taking a seat on the bed and looking down at the floor, "Guess we better get moving again then."

"Nah ah!" Dean protested, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, narrowly avoiding Sam, "Dude, I'm grabbing a shower while I can and I'm completely starved."

"We can get food to go and I think you can go one day without a shower." Sam argued, lifting his gaze up to meet Dean's eyes.

"Dunno 'bout you Sammy, but I don't enjoy eating and driving…"

"Fine! We'll leave right after though, I mean it. We need to keep you away from him."

"Great, make mine a double cheeseburger with extra onions." Dean clapped Sammy on the shoulder as he stood up and looked around the room.

"Duffel's still in the car." Bobby informed him, smiling as he watched the boys.

Dean grumbled but nodded and grabbed the Impala keys from the table, turning them over in his hands as he opened the door and stepped out of the motel room. Sam immediately stood up and took a step towards him, but after a warning glare from Bobby and a few muttered words that sounded like 'he's not gonna run off', he just watched from the still open doorway.

"Ahhh, baby. Missed me? Sorry I left you…" Though the people Dean really wanted to say sorry to were the ones still in the motel room, "I just can't stop messing up."

With a quick twist, turn and heave, the trunk was open and Dean stared down at the contents. Reaching in to grab his duffel lying towards the back, an old book caught his eye, its edges worn and most of the cover carefully hidden by a jacket that had slipped, "I don't remember seeing that before…"

Duffel sitting forgotten, his hands grasped the book and he leaned back against his baby as he opened it up to a page that had been marked.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"I know." Sam conceded, running his hands over his face, "He's just so unpredictable."

"That's the wonders of Dean Winchester but you've got to be patient with him. Pretty scary thought having to obey this guy… I once went up against a demon with mind control – not my favourite hunt, I'll tell you that."

"But at least he's still Dean…"

"And we're gonna keep it that way."

Sam nodded and looked over at the doorframe, brow furrowing when he could see no sign of Dean returning and then he gasped, "The book… I left the book in the trunk."

Bobby shook his head; not understanding what Sam meant but as the young hunter rushed from the room it suddenly dawned on him, "Shit!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	44. Hide and Seek

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Took me awhile to get an update but I've finally managed to, woo! So if things actually go according to plan then I've got another chapter and possibly and Epilogue to write. :) Thanks so much for reading!

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44. Hide and Seek

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He was like a dog, following the scent that the hunters had left behind. Hunters never knew they left a scent and it never seemed to cross their minds that maybe certain demons could pick up on those scents. It was how he had located many hunters in the past, following their sickly sweet scents that reeked of guilt, pain, anguish and all those other things that made them such fun to play with.

Window wound down and wind whipping past him, cooling the stuffy air in the car, he smiled. His smile was vicious and hateful and probably not much different to smile that the particular hunter he was wearing used most the time. He probed around into the hunter's memories every now and then as he just kept driving, noting the sick desire for the kill that the man held. Part of him admired the hunter, but the again part of him always admired things that led to death.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Dean?" Sam asked, apprehension showing in his voice as he neared his brother.

Dean looked up from the book in his hands, his face unreadable, his eyes cold and voice hard, "Sam."

Sam opened his mouth to speak but found he had no words; instead he ended up looking on helplessly.

"Were you planning on telling me? Or were you just gonna try it for yourselves when the time was right?" Dean asked, his voice still so hard and distant.

"You know it wasn't like that." Bobby growled out, joining Sam at the doorway.

"This is pretty important information. You found out how to kill Nex, go you!" He thrust his fist into the air in mock celebration.

"It would never have come to that. It still won't."

"Why? We know how to bring this bastard down… why don't we? Not like you really need me tagging along to slow you down, to disappoint you…"

Bobby stepped in front of Sam and held his arm out in a beckoning manner, "Get inside Dean. You're making an ass out of yourself."

Dean took a step backwards and away from Bobby, "I don't care. Maybe I'd rather be dead than have to take orders from him, from anyone."

"I mean it. Get inside before I drag you in."

"He'll know… won't he? That's why he didn't wanna possess me."

This time it was Sam who took a step forward, only instead of just beckoning he grabbed the top of Dean's arm before his brother had chance to react and dragged him. Dean was thrown forward into the room and Sam quickly slammed the Impala's trunk closed before locking the motel room door behind him and Bobby, "Stop it Dean! Just stop it!"

Dean looked away, shame washing over him. He knew Sam and Bobby wouldn't harm him, he knew that they'd be determined to find any other way to stop Nex but it hurt that they knew and that they didn't tell him, "You don't trust me, do you?"

"Don't be stupid. Why wouldn't we?"

"Then why didn't you tell me?" He saw a flash in Bobby's eyes and laughed as the older hunter opened his mouth, "And don't start spouting crap about the timing being off or not getting a chance to. _You weren't going to tell me._"

Bobby's eyes lost the hopeful glint that had come with the lie quickly formed in his head, his gaze landed on the book still in Dean's hand, "What would you have done if we told you? What are you planning on doing now? You're thinking of playing hero aren't you? You always do. You put everyone else first and yourself last."

"You had no right to keep it from me. Maybe it's how things are meant to be. You know, destiny and all that screwed up crap? I mean what's one hunter compared to hundreds more?"

"You're life is worth more than theirs… when will you start to understand that?" Sam found his voice rising well above its normal level but as fear and anger made war inside his mind, he couldn't help it. Dean was scaring him, he just had no idea what to expect from his brother, stubborn and self sacrificing… "For God's sake Dean!"

"Forget it! Just forget it! I don't wanna know! You can't stand there and tell me how much my life is worth… what about what its cost? I should be dead, I should have died many times over but everybody keeps getting sacrificed in order to keep me alive! You don't know how that feels!" Dean exploded, his voice trembled and his entire body shaking with mixed up emotions, each one trying to escape and make itself known.

He couldn't stand anymore, a wave of dizziness washing over him as he tried to remain upright on legs that felt like nothing more than jelly. The room began to spin and if it hadn't been for the strong hands that grabbed him and led him over to the bed, he would have plummeted face first to the floor.

"Deep breaths." Sam's voice guided him away from the sudden vertigo and back to the motel room, "Come on bro, that's it."

"I'm sick of fighting…" He whispered, "I'm sick of it Sam."

"Just relax Dean, you're gonna make yourself ill."

He nodded and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and hoping when he released it that it didn't sound too much like a sob. He was tired, tired of the endless war, the endless guilt, the endless everything. Opening his eyes, he saw his brother kneeling in front of him, watching him carefully, concern and worry clearly written all over his face.

"I'm okay Sam." He muttered, knowing that neither Bobby nor Sam believed his lie.

"Promise me something." Sam began, as if he hadn't even heard Dean speak, "Promise me you won't do anything stupid like run off again."

"I didn't run off!" Dean argued.

"Then what do you call it?"

"I led him away from you."

"Then don't do it again. Promise me."

"Sam…"

"Promise me Dean."

"Fine."

Sam opened his mouth to complain, ready to pressure Dean into actually saying 'I promise' but Bobby laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled in a way that Sam knew he was saying 'that's the best you're gonna get from him.' Because it was the truth, Dean hated making promises he couldn't keep.

"Great." Sam surrendered and pushed himself up from the floor, "Guess we better get going then."

Dean looked up at that, mouth open in horror, eyes wide with shock, "What about my shower and food?"

"Dude, seriously?"

"Can you remember the last time I ate? 'Cause I sure as hell can't."

Sam nodded and ran his hands through his hair, worry turning into frustration as his brother looked up at him asking for something so simple… "Fine! Okay! I'll go and get your damn food while you shower and then we go. That was the plan wasn't it?"

"That was the plan." Bobby agreed. He watched as Sam grabbed his coat and held out his hand at Dean for the keys to the Impala. Begrudgingly, the eldest handed them over, instructing Sam to throw him his duffel before he drove off.

Bobby sunk onto the bed nearest the door and closed his eyes briefly. What the hell had he gotten himself into? The motel door clicked shut and he opened one eye only to find Dean standing directly in front of him, determination written so clearly in his eyes.

"If you don't grab your shower now then you'll miss your chance." He told him simply, closing his eyes once again. He wasn't expecting Dean to start asking him things.

"How do I invoke him?" Especially not things like that.

He growled and pushed himself up, face hard and set, "You don't. It's not an option so forget about it."

"Please Bobby… trust me. It's not like I'm gonna set myself up for suicide. I need to know – just in case I end up with no other choice." Dean implored.

"You promised Sam…" It was a weak debate and Dean shook his head in reply.

"I can't let Nex hurt Sam and you know he will. I will only use it as a last resort that much I _do_ promise. Please."

"I can't Dean. I can't give you the chance."

"I'll find out one way or another, I'm not stupid. I know how to research - just asking you is easier."

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes he caved, hating the sincerity and desperation in Dean's voice, "Latin - just a Latin incantation."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He remembered passing several food places on the drive through town, though he hadn't paid particular attention to them. There were a couple of high class joints that probably didn't do take away, a couple of cafés that were getting ready to close and a few grease filled fast food places that would be just perfect for him and his need. So after walking into a pizza shop, he exited the place with two large cheeses and a couple of portions of chips.

Constantly, Sam found the need to search the surrounding area, always looking over his shoulder and glancing in the mirrors. He became fidgety and nervous when he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar red car following him, but it turned off shortly afterwards. So he breathed a deep sigh of relief and just continued his journey back to the motel.

When he finally pulled back into the motel parking lot, he found himself cursing as he stared at the very same red car he'd seen earlier. It was parked a couple of rooms down from theirs and leaning against the side, watching Sam, stood a very much calm and a very much free Gordon Walker.

"Sammy!" He called out, grin widening.

Sam slowed the Impala and parked it next to the truck, reaching into the glove box he pulled out the .45, that Dean always stored in there just in case, and hid it as he climbed out to stand opposite Gordon.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked, though he really wanted to say '_How did you find us?'_

"You know why I'm here." The vampire hunter shrugged, glancing at the motel room door, "So Dean let you out of his sights?"

"I'm a big boy."

"You're still a kid compared to me."

"Yeah well, you are getting on in years. How old are you anyway?" Inching his way around the Impala and towards the motel door, Sam made sure to keep his eyes on Gordon the whole time.

"Hundreds, thousands… you loose count after awhile." And Sam froze, green flashing brightly in Gordon's eyes as if someone had just spilled paint into them.

"Nex…"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	45. Showdown Part 1

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

Okay – so this had taken me AAAGGGEEESSS to update – but I've been busy and I wanted to actually get it finished before I did upload it. It's a much longer chapter than usual, so I broke it up into two parts… I'm gonna quickly reread part two and get it up and quickly as possible after posting this one.

On a side note – started Uni yesterday and it wasn't as bad as I thought it was, thank God for kind people! Lol! Anyway… after this… the story will have one more upload and then I get to click that little 'completed' button. I still haven't decided how I feel about that.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

45. Showdown – Part 1

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hair still slightly damp from the shower and mind still reeling with what had been happening, Dean paced the motel room waiting for Sam to return. Silently, he kept going over the Latin incantation that he hoped he never needed to use but he knew if it came down to him or Sam he'd shout it to the heavens in an instant. His hand moved up to mark on his chest, hidden by his shirt but still there. It irritated him and he grimaced against the pain.

"You're as bad as your brother." Bobby growled, remembering how Sam had been not too long ago, walking backwards and forwards and backwards and forwards whilst waiting for Dean to wake up. He loved both boys like his own but by God he could wring both their necks sometimes, "Stop the damn pacing already."

"Sorry." He mumbled, but he wasn't. He made his way over to the window and pulled the curtain to the side, staring out of it just long enough to catch the glimpse of his smooth black Impala sitting next to Bobby's truck. A puzzled expression crossed his face and he moved to pick up the gun sitting on the table and went to the front door, opening it cautiously.

He could hear voices and he recognised them instantly, Sam and Gordon. Moving warily he pushed himself forwards so he could see the scene displayed in front of him. Before he even had a chance to truly listen to whatever they were saying, Gordon spotted him and grinned like the Cheshire Cat.

"Dean! Nice of you to join us. I was beginning to wonder what was taking you so long." He greeted.

"You only had to let me know you were here, I'd have come running." Dean snarked, "After all, I'm not psychic."

"Nah, that's Sammy's gig, ain't it?" The dark hunter teased and Dean continued moving forwards towards his brother, gun raised and aimed at Gordon. From behind he could hear Bobby emerging from the room, muttering a curse under his breath.

Gordon tilted his head to the side, "So you're not one of those 'psychic kids' like your brother… just what are you Dean?"

"Dean…" Sam began but Gordon raised a gun of his own and pointed it directly at Sam, putting a finger over his lip to signal that the young hunter should remain quiet if he wanted to stay alive. In reply Sam growled at him, desperately searching his mind for a way to let his brother know that it wasn't Gordon.

"I'm a Winchester so you better point that gun some place else before I blow your frigging brains out." Dean threatened, not liking the question Gordon had asked and definitely not liking Sam being in danger.

"And I thought we were buddies." Nex replied, playing the part of Gordon pretty well, or so Sam thought, "I'm actually kind of offended."

"Be offended all you want, just point the damn gun some place else!" The anger in Dean's voice vibrated through the air and Gordon shrugged, lowering the gun away from Sam. Sam immediately leapt forward and made to grab the weapon but Nex dodged easily and raised it once more.

"Play nice Sammy." He teased, now with his back to Dean.

Sam lifted his arms in surrender, holding his palms out in a stopping manner, "Okay, okay. Stupid move, yeah."

"Very stupid." Nex agreed, eyes flashing luminous green once more for Sam and only Sam to see.

"Not nearly half as stupid as turning your back on me." Dean hissed, the nuzzle of his gun digging into the delve of Gordon's neck, "Drop the gun."

Defeated, the gun fell to the floor with a clatter and Nex remained perfectly still, as if he didn't really care about losing such a valuable weapon. Then again, it's not like he really did need the gun, it was all part of playing the role.

"Dean… we need to go." Sam commanded and Dean shot him a 'ya think?' glance as he moved around Gordon to pick up the gun, ready for anything that he could try. But he wasn't ready for anything the demon could try and found himself spinning around to face his brother after hearing the sound of glass shattering.

The window of the old red car had been smashed, leaving a large jagged and extremely sharp edge sticking out from the bottom. Just above the edge, Sam's neck sat neatly, head and body held in the dangerous position by some unseen force.

"Sam!" Dean called, making to move a step forward but Gordon's rough hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

Head turning to look into the unnatural green eyes, Dean caught a glimpse of the gun, which he had been moments away from picking up, pointing directly at Bobby's head.

"No…" His eyes widened as he looked back and forth between friend and brother before finally landing on Nex, "Please…"

Nex smiled and Sam groaned as the glass cut into his skin, "I warned you Dean."

"Don't! Please don't!" Dean begged and the force on Sam stopped pushing him into the glass, returning to just holding him in place. He knew it was only a matter of time before the demon pushed again and that was all he needed to know.

From over near the room door Bobby shook his head vigorously at Dean, fear clearly written on his face, "Dean! Don't you dare! Give us a chance. You can't…"

Unable to speak for fear of driving the glass deeper, Sam watched from the corner of his eye, noting the near panic in Bobby's voice and the sudden movement of Dean's lips, putting two and two together and knowing this was going to end badly.

"Alieno vita vos usus ego dico…" Dean mumbled, eyes staring deep into Gordon's possessed ones, "…vos ut mihi ego dico vos ex populus vos…"

"Dean?" Nex cut in, frowning in suspicion at the Latin words. He knew their meaning and their implication but was unsure why the hunter would make such a reckless move. He already felt the small tug but shrugged it off, focusing on controlling Sam and Bobby's situations.

"…vindicatum quod ego precor vos…" Dean continued, forcefully pushing back every cell in his body that told him to stop, ignoring the pleas from Bobby and hoping that they would have the advantage of surprise, "…ego precor nex quod dico nex volo quod dico nex volo!"

Nex faltered, trying to remain in control and inside of Gordon but the pull was strong and as Dean repeated the last line of the incantation, he felt himself slipping. The dark hunter screamed harshly and painfully as the demon exited from his mouth and launched itself towards the waiting Dean. The darkness hit him so fast that Dean fell to his knees immediately and everything faded for what felt like seconds. Next time he opened his eyes though he was holding Bobby by the throat and could hear Sam gasping for air somewhere behind him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The force keeping Sam in place over the glass and Bobby frozen with the gun pointed at his head disappeared as soon as Nex had left Gordon's body. The effects were immediate causing the gun to drop and Bobby to surge forwards towards the fallen Dean whilst Sam tried to catch himself before falling onto the glass.

"You okay Sam?" Bobby called, not taking his eyes off Dean.

"I'm fine." Sam answered from his position on the floor, "What the hell did he do?"

"Stupid idiot invoked the bastard."

The next movement was so swift that Bobby had no time to react as Dean shot up and wrapped his hand around his neck, eyes bright green and deadly, "And why would he do that?"

"I think you know why." Sam snarked.

"You really gonna kill him?" Nex asked, tilting his head as he looked at Sam, "You'd really kill your own brother?"

Sam didn't answer, just stared hard into those eyes. And then Nex smirked and tightened his other hand, causing a pressure to wrap around Sam's neck, making him unable to breath. "I don't think you have it in you."

Using the hand that wasn't trying to force Dean's away, Bobby reached around his back for the weapon he'd been keeping hidden since back at the hospital. The movement wasn't lost on Nex as he released Sam from the pressure and instead grabbed Bobby's arm and pull it forward to reveal his grip of the knife… Nex's knife; Dean's knife.

"Just what were you planning on doing with that?" He growled, fingers digging into Bobby's arm until he was forced the let go of the weapon. As soon as he did, Nex released his arm and caught the dagger, bringing it up to Bobby's face, "You're no better than Sam, you couldn't hurt him either. That's what makes you so… weak."

"Dean…" Sam pleaded, "Come on bro – you gotta fight this. You can't let him win now."

"Don't you get it Sammy? He knew you couldn't win against me – that's why he invoked me. 'Cause he's sick of always fighting against what he knows is true."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"He's not the hunter. He's the hunted." Nex flicked his head towards the unconscious Gordon, "Think he kinda proves that."

"You don't know anything about him." Sam growled, pulling himself up to his full height.

"I don't think so Sam." The demon threatened, pressing the knife a little closer to Bobby's cheek, drawing blood from the small cut, "Think before you try something stupid."

"Son of a…" Bobby ground out as he tried to get free of Nex's grip.

"Okay… I think if we stay out here much longer than we'll end up drawing some unwanted attention. Why don't you help your friend there into the room?" Nex ordered, indicating Gordon.

Sam didn't move at first but when the knife began to travel down Bobby's cheek and towards his neck, he bent down and dragged the dark hunter towards the room. Nex followed closely behind, keeping a good hold on Bobby as the hunter squirmed, still determined to escape.

"Good boy Sammy." Nex taunted, and though it was Dean's voice it sounded so foreign. He closed the door behind them all and thrust Bobby forward towards Sam, leaving him to just stand at their only exit wearing Dean's body and twirling the knife in his hands.

"So you gonna kill us?" Bobby asked, eyes glaring at the demon, "Gonna waste us?"

"What other choice do I have?" Nex cocked Dean's head to the side, "If I walk away you'll just keep trying. I can't risk it."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Every movement, every word spoken, and every breath – he tried to resist. He could see everything, hear everything and feel everything, including the hatred and anger flowing from Sam and Bobby and the enjoyment running through his veins from Nex. He wanted to call out to Sam, to tell him he was still fighting for control – to tell him that he was still there.

But then the taunting voice of Nex echoed through his mind, "Don't Dean. It's just a waste of energy. They're afraid of you, they don't care if you're fighting 'cause deep down, you know they're going to kill you."

"Shut up!" Dean roared silently.

"Sam can't even look at you, what does that tell you?"

"I said shut up!"

"They don't want you anymore!" Nex carried on, "They don't _need_ you."

"I've heard it all before."

"No – you heard lies before. Dean, we could make a great team. We could do great things together. You don't need them."

"What I don't need is you."

"Wanna bet?"

And Dean felt the air leave his body, felt his senses disappear and he was dragged further and further back into his mind, no longer able to see what was happening on the outside. He could feel a dull ache in his limbs, feel his heart beat skip.

"You'd have died as an infant if it wasn't for me. I chose you Dean and for good reason, don't make me regret my decision."

"You can't kill me." Dean wheezed.

"I don't want to kill you but I will, right when I'm finished with Sam and Bobby."

"I die… you die."

"Only if I'm inside of you, and there are still plenty of hosts I could use to kill you."

A flicker of smirk ran over Dean's features, "If you say so."

Dean could feel Nex's hold loosen up slightly, curiosity winning out, "What do you mean?"

"That little mark of yours? I made a few modifications."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	46. Showdown Part 2

**.-.-.-.Death Markers.-.-.-.**

And as promised – here is part 2… Yeah this is officially feeling weird because I can't believe I've got no more Death Markers to write. I hope you've enjoyed the journey as much as I have and I want to thank you all for reading and for the kind encouragement throughout 'cause it really has kept me going.

Also – forgot to mention, that whole Latin incantation might be a little (a lot) off but basically I just used a Latin translator to translate a made up incantation and if you tried to translate it back… let's just say I tried and it made no sense. Lol.

So thank you all! It's been great!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

46. Showdown – Part 2

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"True." Sam agreed, hands forming fists at his sides. Rage boiled up inside of him, tearing through him as he thought about his brother's actions and their consequences. He held his gaze on Nex, watching as Dean's body stiffened and became suddenly still, the knife no longer twirling.

"No…" Nex mouthed, pulling Dean's shirt open just enough so he could see the mark on Dean's chest.

"Stupid son of a bitch!" Bobby shouted, eyes landing on the mark and the several newly made lines running through it, "Stupid son of a…"

"Bobby, tell me that isn't…" Sam questioned, shaking his head in disbelief.

"A trap? A freaking lock with no key?"

"Dean…" Sam breathed.

"Looks like Dean didn't want me to leave." Nex smirked, raising his eyes to meet Sam's.

"He wants you to die." Sam answered, deadpanned, emotionless…

"But you can't kill him."

"I know…"

"And now he's trapped."

Sam bit his lip and found his eyes falling on the dagger in Dean's hand, "I could free him – I owe him that much."

Nex froze, his body stiffened as he saw the cold resolution in Sam's eyes.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The momentary shock brought Dean out of the darkness once again so he could witness what was happening on the outside. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and cold shivers ran up and down his spine. He didn't want to die but he didn't want to live like this. He watched as Sam's eyes fell on the dagger, a dark voice echoing around his thoughts.

"He's gonna do it Dean. He's gonna kill you. Don't you think it's time we stopped him?"

But Dean ignored the voice, his own drowning it out as he screamed inside his own mind, "Do it Sam! Do it!"

Sam dove towards him and Dean felt his body unwillingly moving to guard, readying the knife in his hands. But Sam was quick, grabbing Dean's wrist and pulling it away. Though his brother's eyes were hard he could see the lost look lingering in the back, the little boy wanting and needing his big brother to make everything alright. And Nex stopped fighting, unable drive the knife towards Sam's chest.

"I'm sorry Sammy." Dean whispered, not knowing whether the words were spoken out loud or just in his mind.

Unprepared for the sudden change of direction, Sam's hand lost it's grip on Dean's wrist, the knife heading straight into Dean's chest and the reaction almost immediate as the elder Winchester fell to his knees. He'd barely caught the whispered words only moments before but Sam knew they weren't Nex's, knew they weren't a taunt and that the last actions were Dean's attempt at once again saving his brother.

"Dean, don't you dare…" Sam pleaded, falling next to his brother and gripping him by the shoulders to keep him from falling onto the knife, "Why Dean?"

"So… you wou… wouldn't have… to." Dean coughed, blood trickling over his lips as he spoke.

"I can't lose you Dean… I couldn't have ever… I wasn't gonna hurt you." Sam tried to explain his actions, tried to explain that he had never intended for it to end like this. He watched as Dean's eyes began to slip closed and shook him gently, "Come on, stay with me! Stay with me!"

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't Dean… don't you dare… you cannot leave me like this… you can't die!" Sam begged.

"We need to get him to the hospital… quickly!" Bobby ordered, voice grounding Sam and causing Dean to blink his eyes open for only a second, "I'll help you get him to the car and then you gotta drive like crazy… I'll follow you in my truck"

Any other words spoken faded as Dean slipped back into the darkness, struggling to keep breathing and thinking and anything that meant living.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Once the Impala was out of sight, leaving only dust behind, Bobby turned to face the motel room. He swooped down and picked up the knife that had been thrown hurriedly to the side, knowing that maybe they weren't quite done with it yet, and then he moved to the other end of the room where the dark hunter Gordon was beginning to stir.

"Hi." Bobby growled, kneeling down in front of him, "You don't exactly look too great."

"Screw you." Gordon spat, dragging himself into a sitting position.

"I'm gonna do you a favour. I'm gonna let you walk out of this room. I swear I won't stop you and I won't ever think about you again. On one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Like I told you before, I want you to stay away from the Winchesters. I want you to leave them alone… I don't wanna even hear that you've been talking about them. I want you to forget about them, like I'm gonna forget about you."

"Not gonna happen." The dark hunter snarked, his lip twitching into a cruel smile, "They're not normal."

"Nothing wrong with what they are. You on the other hand… I heard you killed your own flesh and blood without a second thought. That's not normal. So you stay away from them… or you're gonna find yourself in a whole world of trouble."

Gordon pulled himself up, steadying his body against the wall, "What the hell is an old guy like you gonna do to me?"

This time Bobby smiled, grabbing Gordon's neck and dragging him forwards before pushing him towards the door, "You don't want to find out."

"But I guess I'll end up finding out one day." Gordon said; looking the old hunter up and down before leaving the room and Bobby knew that probably wouldn't be the last time he saw him.

Upon hearing the engine of Gordon's car, Bobby found the keys to his truck and set off in the same direction he'd seen the Impala disappear in, hoping to catch up with the boys.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

One thing he knew was that he wasn't going to heaven, everything hurt too much for the light filtering through his eyelids to be heavens. Every muscle ached, every scratch stung and there was one hell of a pain in his chest that made it really difficult to breath. So it must have been hell.

That sickly stench of disinfectant that he hated so much, that piercing noise of constant buzzing and beeping that really irritated him and that really uncomfortable feeling from sleeping on a lumpy mattress. He was in hell. He'd died and gone to hell.

He dared himself to open his eyes, dared himself to look around and check out his new home for the next millennia or ten. Slowly, after a painful and hitching breath, he managed to prise one eye half way open and searched the place he was in. Oh great… hell was a hospital. The guys down below really did know how to torture people, sticking him in a damn hospital room for eternity.

Just as he was about to close his eye and wish for nothing but darkness, a voice called out, rising at the end in a questioning manner, "Dean?"

Impossible. It couldn't be hell… hell didn't have Sammy…

"Sam?" Dean croaked, trying to work his dry tongue around his even drier lips.

"Oh God, Dean…" And Dean felt an immediate movement to his right as what felt like a large and heavy object deciding to place itself on his bed.

"I'm not dead?" Dean asked, barely able to get the words out.

Sam laughed dryly, a low growl in his voice, "You try anything like that again and you will be."

Dean decided to open both eyes, taking in the fuzzy form of his brother, "What happened?"

"You nearly died Dean… you _did_ die… you were gone for nearly two minutes…" Sam answered, and Dean could hear the hurt in his voice, "I don't know what I would have done…"

'I'm sorry' didn't seem nearly enough and even if he said it, Sam wouldn't have accepted it. So he turned his head away from his brother and instead asked a question that he really feared the answer too, "And Nex?"

"No sign of him… Bobby thinks… Bobby thinks that most of him died when you… when you…" And Sam couldn't seem to say the words.

"Refused to wake up?" Dean offered, tone playful but understanding.

"Damn it Dean. Two minutes! Two freaking minutes! Do you have any idea how long two minutes is when someone you love refuses to… come back."

There were tears mixed in with Sam's words, making it even harder for Dean to look at him. He was saved from answering the question by a rough cough from the other side of the room, announcing the arrival a third person. Turning his head, Dean was relieved to see Bobby strolling towards them, a coffee in each hand.

"One of them for me?" He smirked at the old hunter, the sweet smell drifting towards him.

"After the stunts you pulled? You're gonna be stuck with hospital food for at least a week." Bobby snarked back, handing a cup to Sam and taking a sip from his own.

"Nah ah… I'm not staying here for a week!" The injured hunter argued, but the moment he tried to pull himself up and into a sitting position, the pain in his chest increased tenfold and left him wheezing and coughing.

"Dean… be careful." Sam warned, forcing his brother back down, "You're gonna tear the stitches."

"Damn it."

"You gotta rest up. We've still got work to do when you get out of here." Bobby reprimanded, sending Dean a stern look.

"Nex…" Dean breathed, grimacing at the sound of the name.

"Yeah, him and all the other things that go bump in the night." Bobby went on, "See, the way I figure it, he's pretty much done for. If he ain't already gone, then I say getting rid of that knife should do the trick."

"You serious?"

"Yeah so just do us one favour, eh?"

"What's that?"

"No more invoking demons so you can try and kill yourself… or I will kill you for real."

"You'll have to wait in line… Sammy's already threatened me."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

If it wasn't for Dean's stubbornness and refusal of help, telling everyone that he was fine and insisting on doing everything himself - he would have made it out of the hospital before the end of the week… as Sam constantly reminded him when they managed to check Dean out of there nearly a fortnight later. They left with strict instructions for him to behave and take it easy.

"Like that'll happen." Dean snorted, placing his hand out to take the keys for the Impala from Sam.

Instead, Sam pushed passed his brother and unlocked the door, climbing into the driver seat and ignoring the irritated groan from Dean, "Probably not."

"Where did you say Bobby was meeting us?" He asked huffily, crossing his arms like a five year old would do.

"Hillside County Cemetery."

"And we're doing what there?"

Instead of answering, Sam turned the key and started the engine, driving deliberately steady all the way to the large cemetery plot where Bobby stood waiting. Confused and angry with being left out of the loop, Dean climbed out the car and followed as Sam and Bobby led the way to a freshly dug grave. The date on the gravestone however indicated that the grave had been there since 1978, which explained why Bobby's clothes were so muddy.

"Thought you might wanna do the honours." Bobby said; handing Dean a small box made from metal.

"What is this?" He asked, fingering the box and lifting the lid enough to reveal several bullets.

"It's your knife and an iron box."

"They're bullets…" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah well, it's the only mould I got, okay?" Bobby explained, "Took extra precautions 'cause well… don't really know what we're doing when it comes to stuff like this… so they've got salt mixed in and they were doused in holy water."

"Why here?"

"It's a child's grave." Sam replied, and Dean noticed as he neared the grave that it was smaller than normal, "Superstitions state they're some of the most innocent creatures."

"Superstition's got it wrong before." But that was the last of the arguing Dean did, throwing the iron box onto the grave. He spent the rest of the night watching from the sidelines as Sam and Bobby shovelled the soil back into the grave, hand rising unconsciously to the mark on his chest as his mind wandered over the past months.

"And it's over?" He asked, more to himself than the other two hunters.

"This battle is." Sam answered, watching Dean's distant gaze, "But there's still a war to fight."

Letting his hand fall to his side, Dean turned to his brother and smirked, "Then we gotta be ready."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

A/N: Again - thank you all so much!!!! 


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